Spider-Gwen: On With It
by CaptainSheridan
Summary: In a world without heroes, Spider-Woman is one of a kind. Wanting to move on from past mistakes and horrors, Gwen is trying to make the best of her own life. But nothing is ever simple for the infamous Spider-Woman as she deals with school, friendship, a detective, a mysterious doctor, and not to mention the one and only Kingpin.
1. Chapter 1: A Stormy Night

They were at the club. Picture whatever generic club that comes to your mind first because it doesn't matter. It was a place with low lights, high patrons. It was a place with loud music that could go appreciated if you cared and not if you didn't. Either way, it wasn't important. Most details in any given scene go unnoticed by us, not unless you're looking for them.

Gwen wasn't interested in the scene, but she might have been earlier in life if she had been given the chance to. Right here and now Gwen was just interested in being a good friend; being her best friend's friend. Her best friend is the lovely perfection of a woman known as Mary Jane. Mary Jane with her long auburn hair; Mary Jane with her slender physique. Mary Jane who is her best friend. Mary Jane who is depressed. Mary Jane who tried to kill herself because she didn't think she was good enough for this world anymore.

Gwen wanted to tell MJ what happened, but she would never add to MJ's personal burdens. She had been through so much already. And now, here she was trying to have a good time again. MJ was putting in a decent effort to make the best of her life which understandably is very difficult for the woman. Gwen, on the other hand, was holding as tightly as she could onto the single thread that held her together.

She saw him approach her from the corner of her eye. Gwen was the type of person to never let a single detail in life go unnoticed. Gwen was continuously and constantly aware of her surroundings. Her father had brought up this personal trait not too long ago. He had mentioned that she would make an amazing detective. She would argue that that was exactly why she was going into digital forensic science, but that answer never placated him. Not to say that he wasn't proud of his daughter. In fact, after all she had been through, she could never disappoint him.

Let's go back to the man who slowly approached her. You could argue that all he was actually doing was approaching the bar itself, but Gwen saw him pass her a few looks earlier. She had noticed that he was with a group of professionally dressed men; wealthy looking men. She made a few assumptions about them based off of their simple behaviors. They had been standing in a small circle next to the dance floor examining their targets. Once their targets had been picked, they set out to make the kill. For some reason or another, this man decided that Gwen would be his target for the night. Maybe he thought she was easy or maybe he thought she was desperate.

Gwen had been facing the dance floor from where she was sitting with her elbows propped on the bar behind her. She was diligently watching over her friend Mary Jane making sure that all was well. The two of them always had a plan of escape just in case MJ got harassed by an unwanted suitor. Mary Jane would wave Gwen over when the time came. If MJ approved of her suitor she would start with the line, "Hey Gwen, meet my new friend so and so," and if she didn't approve MJ would say, "How are you doing Gwen?". Mary Jane didn't always get the wording right especially when she was intoxicated, but Gwen always knew if the guy was a hit or a miss.

"Can I get you a drink?" he intentionally stepped in Gwen's line of sight. He was a tall and handsome man, to say the least. Maybe he wouldn't have been considered traditional or classically handsome, but he had a posture which demanded confidence. Without a doubt in her mind, he was a man with an oversized ego. She wasn't expecting much.

Gwen was never one to ignore a person, so she gave him the time of day, "I already have a drink."

"I can see that." He smiled at her. "How about I buy you your next drink?"

Gwen shrugged and looked in his direction while holding up her glass, "I don't know. This one still looks pretty full to me."

"I'll take that as a no then?" He continued to smile charmingly at her.

"It's hard to say no to a free drink." She craned her head to stare over at the bar. "Usually I just get the cheapest item on the menu. I'm a poor, struggling student, in case you were wondering."

"You don't look it."

"Really?" She laughed a bit. "I thought that's exactly what I looked like."

"Can I offer to get you something besides the cheapest swill on the menu?" He still pulled his charming smile on her.

Gwen slowing took stock of her surroundings. Mary Jane came here specifically because it wasn't a high-class bar. It wasn't trashy; you want to stay away from trashy, but it didn't seem like the place for men like him or for nice drinks at that.

"I think the only cocktail this place knows how to make is a Jager Bomb. That or something with vodka."

"I'm guessing neither of those beverages are to your taste?"

"Actually, I'll drink anything." Gwen saw MJ chatting with one of the man's friends. "I'm probably an alcoholic, or at least, that's what my dad thinks."

He gave Gwen a quizzical expression that held a smirk within, "So… I shouldn't get you another drink?"

"My question is: Why are you even talking to me?" She sighed at him.

The smirk left his quizzical face. "Is that not exactly the reason people come to places like these? To talk to someone?"

"If by talking you mean have sex, then yeah, that's why people come here."

"I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that you aren't interested in either." He said this, but he didn't seem annoyed or bothered. It wasn't exactly the reaction she was anticipating.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Why? Is that what you're looking for?"

"I was curious about you." He examined her closely. Gwen wasn't a lavish person and he would never have described her as a stunning woman. She was wearing a lot less make-up then half of the woman there and a lot more clothing than most. She didn't seem like she belonged. "I get the impression you don't want to be here." He finally added.

"I want to be here because my friend is here." She pointed her eyes in MJ's direction. "Wouldn't be here otherwise."

The man nodded in response. "So I am annoying you, then?"

"No," Gwen paused to think about whether or not this was the truth, "You're not annoying me at all. I just think that maybe, if you're looking for somebody, I'm not who you're looking for."

"Tell me then," his grin broadened, "What am I looking for?"

Gwen raised a single brow at him. "Maybe if I was a telepath I could tell you, but I'm not. So really, that's your problem, isn't it?"

"I've found, in my experience, that looking produces disappointment. Therefore, I never look." He spoke to her as if it was matter-of-fact. "In my life's experience anytime I've looked for a woman, well… They are never who they say they are."

"Let me tell you something then. As a matter-of-fact, no one ever is. I, myself, probably more than most."

"As in, you're guilty of not being who you say you are?" He questioned.

"Often it's what we don't say, not what we do say that becomes our downfall." Gwen's mind reached out in blankness. "And when we're found out, that's when everything falls apart."

"Okay." He figured he would entertain her theory. "So what is it that you won't say which will make everything fall apart?"

She gave him a crooked glance. "If I told you, everything would fall apart now, wouldn't it?"

"How can you even know if you don't tell me? We're strangers. We never have to see each other again; what do you have to lose?"

"You don't think that there's a secret out there that's so dangerous that telling it to a stranger could still destroy your life?" She shifted her eyes back to him. What a strange man, she thought.

"How about, I go first?" He stopped to rub his chin. "It'll be a secret between us."

"You would so willingly tell me something that could destroy all that is good in your life?"

"Sure." He shrugged at her. "Maybe you could go tell my friends here and that would make my life difficult, but I don't think you will."

"Alright." She just couldn't understand what exactly he was getting at. "Tell me then."

"I don't believe I am capable of loving anyone who isn't myself." He sounded almost prideful when he spoke. "On the scale of what matters in the world, I am more competent than everyone I know and I've never met a person I haven't deeply criticized."

Gwen wasn't impressed. "Honestly, that doesn't sound like much of a secret. Your friends probably know that about you, if you have any."

"I've destroyed people's lives to get where I am today. I've gone so far as to betray my own friends. I've spent little to no time caring about what anyone else wants."

"Buddy," Gwen lifted an open palm at him. "This isn't Dr. Phil, alright? You're just dumping your shit on me; these aren't secrets."

"I don't tell people this when I meet them. They discover it and then… Leave."

"Wait," Gwen rolled her eyes, "wasn't this about how people disappoint you? How they aren't what they seem to you."

"That, too." He agreed. "But usually it's a me problem."

Now his words and tone were confusing Gwen. "You don't seem upset about it… You seem- You seem pretty okay with yourself."

"The problem is, is that I wish I was a different person, but I'm not."

"People can always change." She wondered if she could change; if she would change. "You can always try to be something else."

He observed her sad eyes but decided against any further comment on the matter. "What about you? What is it that you don't tell anyone?"

Gwen finished off her warm drink and slapped the empty glass down on the bar. "I was in love with my best friend's boyfriend and then I accidentally killed him. And my best friend doesn't know either of these things."

"Well, uh," the stranger scratched at the top of his head. "That would ruin one's life, wouldn't it?"

"Probably one of the reasons I'm a depressed alcoholic." She feigned a smile at him.

He appeared a bit stunned to Gwen. "One of the reasons? Like you have additional reasons for that?"

"Look… Mister," she raised a finger at him, "I have so many more reasons you'll wonder why I haven't ended it all already."

"That's dark. I think I was right about you." He shook his head knowingly.

She gave him a short glare. "That makes two of us. But what is it about me specifically that you were right about?"

"I was right when I thought to myself that you're the kind of woman who doesn't want to be here." He took a moment to stare into her pale eyes. "You're the kind of woman who doesn't want to be here, on Earth."

What he said to Gwen, it unsettled her. It was a particularly poignant observation that he cast on her. Was she so completely obvious? She never thought that her dissatisfaction and resentment towards life was painted clearly on her face. Did MJ see this in her? Did she know?

"But I'm still here." Gwen finally spoke up after a few moments of silence. "And I'll be here until I'm no longer needed."

He shook his head at her in disagreement. "What exactly is that supposed to even mean?"

"Maybe because you don't understand what it's like to devote your life to something besides yourself, it doesn't make a lot of sense."

"You might be wrong there." He argued. "I'm a doctor; my entire life's purpose is saving people."

Somehow Gwen didn't find that fact to be much of a surprise. "And you also said you don't care about anyone but yourself, so it kinda makes sense."

"How so?" He wondered, but he was sure he already knew the answer.

"Because it really does make you better than everyone else, doesn't it?"

"Exactly." He wouldn't argue with her logic.

Gwen caught MJ waving at her from a distance. "As enlightening as this conversation has been, duty calls." She pointed in MJ's direction.

The strange man glanced over to the dance floor. "I am assuming that's the friend you spoke of earlier. Your best friend?"

"Bingo." She hopped off of the tall barstool.

"I don't think I caught your name." He stopped her.

"I didn't tell you what my name was."

He rolled his eyes ever so slightly. "My name is Stephen."

"Gwen." She turned her head away. "But, I mean, we probably won't ever see each other again, so I'm not sure how much that matters."

"Well, despite your attitude I enjoyed talking to you."

"Oh, go fuck yourself." Gwen laughed at him as she walked away.

MJ was in the middle of the dance floor. She would always migrate towards large crowds of people. It was a place where she could drown herself; where she could become lost and insignificant. The problem was, people always noticed Mary Jane. There were days she loved it and embraced it and then there were the other days. There were days she wished she was a troll living under a bridge that everyone avoided. Today she wanted to get lost, but like most days, Mary Jane often felt she didn't get her way.

There was Gwen, presently in front of her. "Hello MJ."

"How are you doing, Gwen?" MJ shouted this over the crowd and music.

Gwen scrutinized the man she was with. "We should probably go now."

He heard this and placed a wobbling hand on Gwen's shoulder. "Oh, come on. We were- we were having fun. We can all have fun together, ya know?"

MJ wanted to leave. Tonight wasn't her night. Tonight wasn't one of those nights where she thought she could have a good time. Tonight became one of those nights where she just needed to be left alone.

"Here's the thing, bud," Gwen yelled into his ear. "My friend and I are done with this place. We both just want to get home and get some rest."

"Pfft." He spat in response. "She ain't say no such thing. Right, MJ?"

MJ considered her options. She didn't like to offend people or hurt their feelings and he seemed like an okay enough guy, but she just wasn't into it.

"I think we are just going to leave." Gwen reiterated.

He offered Gwen a wavering squint. "I know exactly what this is about."

"Yeah, it's about us wanting to go the fuck home."

"No, no," he shook his pointer finger at her, "I know what this is about. You see some fine man getting up in your friend's business and you must be thinking- you must be jealous, 'cause you could only wish for a man like me."

"Maybe if I pray enough Santa will bring me one for Christmas." Gwen scoffed back. "Until that day arrives, we're going to leave."

He wrapped his fingers around MJ's left bicep. "Naw, we're gonna stay right here and have a good time."

Gwen grabbed his free hand and slowly began squeezing it. "Naw, I think we're going to go."

A puzzled look crept onto the man's face then slowly it became an expression of pain. "You fuckin' let go of me!"

Until now, MJ had been completely silent. "You fucking let go of me!" She shouted.

And he did exactly that. "Jesus Christ, Jesus Christ!" He screamed at Gwen.

She let go of the man's hand.

"Holy fuck!" He shouted again. "You broke my hand, you psycho bitch!" And he ran off to the bar where Gwen could see Stephen was still sitting at.

"Let's uh-" Gwen quickly looked around the neon bar, "-go out the back, kay?"

Mary Jane nodded in agreement.

As they exited out of the dark club and into a dark alley Mary Jane spoke, "Did you really hurt that guy?"

"MJ," Gwen chuckled, "The guy was being a wuss. I didn't break his hand. Do you honestly believe I could break someone's hand just like that?"

MJ grabbed onto Gwen's shoulders from the side and smiled at her. "You are like a freak of nature. You're weirdly strong. I wouldn't mess with you and I took Krav Maga lessons."

"MJ, you took two lessons and gave up. That doesn't count."

"That's two more lessons than you." MJ retorted.

Gwen ignored this joking jab. "Should we get you home? I'll hail you a cab, okay?"

"Cab?" MJ snorted in response. "What year is this? 1990? Uber's are waaay cheaper, Gwen."

"And way creepier."

"You really think cab drivers are better than Uber drivers?" MJ questioned Gwen's rationale. "Like, cab drivers rape and kill people, too."

"Are you trying to make me feel better?" Gwen lifted her palms to the sky. "I'd walk you home, but you're wearing heels and it'll take 30 minutes at best."

"Carry me." MJ laughed as she draped her body over Gwen's torso.

Gwen grunted and pushed the woman off of her. "I'm not carrying you home, MJ."

"But I know you could, since you're like, freakishly strong. We were literally just talking about this."

"Are you trying to get a rise out of me MJ?" Gwen crossed her arms over her chest.

MJ poked at Gwen and looked her directly in her eyes. "Just seeing if you can. I can't remember the last time I saw you get upset about anything. Even when Peter died you were like weird and cold and-"

Gwen cupped a hand over MJ's mouth. "MJ, I don't want to talk about Peter, I don't want to talk about anything. This isn't the moment for that, okay?"

MJ took a step back and studied Gwen. "I saw you-" she stuttered, "I saw you talking to that nice looking man at the bar. Usually you tell them to fuck of right away, but you didn't to him."

"I eventually told him to fuck off if that makes you feel any better."

"What was so special about him?" MJ asked.

"He wasn't. He was an asshole, a douchebag." Gwen didn't actually believe that, at least not entirely. "I'm never going to see him again, so what does it matter?"

"Gwen, in the years I've known you, you've never had a boyfriend or girlfriend or whatever. Like, I never got why you were like that. I never got why you were always like, so against being with anyone. Don't you want to be happy?"

"Because that's it, isn't it MJ?" Gwen scowled at MJ. She hated it; she hated that she was getting angry at MJ. "Because being in a romantic relationship should be the most important aspect of my life? Have you ever stopped to think that it's just not what I want with my life?"

"Finally!" A huge grin crossed MJ's face. "I finally get something out of you for once, Gwen. Sometimes it seems like you're dead inside and I only wish I could feel that way."

Gwen quickly shook her head in disagreement. "Have you ever thought that you're not the only person in the world who knows what it's like to suffer? Have you ever thought that other people go through shit, MJ? And instead of crying for attention, they just fucking deal with it?"

MJ was crushed by Gwen's words. "Is that what you think? Gwen, I know how pathetic I am, I don't need you to remind me of that!"

Gwen immediately realized that a mistake had been made. "I shouldn't have said all of that."

"No, you're right." MJ bowed her head. "You know I try to deal with it. I try to deal with everything, but then I think, I remember… I miss Peter every day, Gwen. And I wish I could forget everything. I wish I didn't have to think about it. I know you and Peter were close-"

"MJ," Gwen gasped for air, "I told you I don't want to talk about Peter."

"But I want to talk about Peter!" MJ screamed back. "I love him and I miss him all the time. I just want him back!"

Gwen wrapped her fingers into tight fists. "I know what that's like. I miss Peter, too. I miss my mom and my brother and the life I could have had. I miss all of those things, but you move on. You gotta move on with your life MJ; you got to let it go."

"Peter was my life." Silent tears trickled down MJ's face. "He was my meaning in life."

Gwen heard a bolt of thunder and blankly stared down the half lit florescent alley. Small drops of rain popped off the dusty ground as the two friends stood in silence. Gwen could tell it was going to be a bad storm. She had a certain sense for doom and demise.

"I want to go home now." MJ murmured through the pattering rain.

Gwen placed a firm hand on MJ's back. "Come on, let's go out front, I'll hail you a cab."

The two walked down the alley to where they could be seen on New York's vibrant city nights. The city that never sleeps which was convenient for Gwen since she never did either. It was only a few moments before Gwen hailed down a cab and pushed MJ off into it. All she could hope for was that MJ would make it through the night; that the woman would sleep it off. Even more rain started to fall.

Through the thick of the rain, Gwen heard someone chuckle behind her from the curb. As she turned around to step off the street, she saw exactly the person she thought she would. Stephen.

She rolled her eyes and he caught on to her expression. "I thought you left a while ago?" He questioned her.

"Your friend is a fucking asshole." Gwen smiled.

He shook his head up and down knowingly. "That he is. Groom to be, too."

Gwen raised a brow in response.

"This was his bachelor party." He gave her a small yet sly grin. "He's in the emergency room now though. Said, and I quote him exactly, 'Some crazy bitch broke my hand'. You wouldn't happen to know who that was?"

"If you want to charge me for assault or something, feel free. However, it was entirely self-defense."

"Oh, I don't doubt that." He was satisfied with her response; it was exactly what he wanted to hear. "Let's be honest, he got exactly what he deserved. He probably deserved more."

"You hang out with dirt bags."

"I thought we had already established that I am one."

"You established that. You directly said that, although with more words." The rain had been pouring down for a few minutes now and they were both soaked to the bone.

"You got me there." But he still just smiled at her.

She frowned back. "I'm going home now. Enjoy the rest of your night, if there is one."

"Will do." He sternly nodded at her.

Gwen knew, and she had the sense for these sort of things, that she was going to see him again. She wasn't one to believe in fate, but she knew that the future was already set in stone.


	2. Chapter 2: Never Sleep

Most people live in ignorance. They live in the shadow of the horrors this world has to offer. Considering human nature and how many of us there are on the planet, it isn't hard to imagine what goes on. Imagination, however, is not the same as seeing something first hand. When you witness a horror, it haunts you; there isn't any other way to describe it. You feel like somebody has betrayed you and you've been violated on the deepest level. Being part of a horror, that's an entirely different kind of a game.

Detective Terry Lee hadn't been around long enough to see most of New York's horrors. Lee was a fresh-faced detective in the PD; a man with dark skin and even darker eyes. He grew up in New York, so he knew a thing or two about the place. Mostly he knew what it was like because he had the grand luck of growing up in the poorest borough New York had to offer. Unlike other kids in the neighborhood, Lee was lucky enough to have a daddy growing up. Lee's daddy was a cop, too. All Lee ever wanted was to be just like his daddy.

Terry saw some bad shit as an officer in the PD: junkies, abusers, abused, rapist, raped, all sorts of awful. But there's all this other shit you never get to see as an officer. There are much darker dealings in this world that you knew existed, but there just wasn't the possibility you'd see it. In the one year Detective Terry Lee had been well, a detective, he had already seen too much. Too much murder. People loved murdering other people. And when you got that call, you knew something bad was coming. But when you get called by your self-proclaimed number one fan, that was something else entirely.

The detective had been in charge of the investigation pertaining to the murder of one young man by the name of Peter Parker. A single woman stepped forward claiming that it was Spider-Woman. One. Single. Witness. That wasn't enough evidence to make an arrest and there were no other obvious clues that pointed to the friendly neighborhood spider. But no matter, that was all it took for a public witch-hunt. Detective Lee decided that he would only deal with facts and not wild accusations. As it turned out, Spider-Woman appreciated this, but go figure?

She had contacted the detective directly and directly meant that she broke into his apartment one night. So, they talked it out, but what she said, well there was no way to prove it. At least, not exactly. She claimed the man turned into a giant lizard and the two had an unplanned fight to the death. Obviously, this would sound ludicrous in court. But what they could prove was that the young man had been poisoned and that was the true cause of his death. Spider-Woman was never satisfied with this answer, but it did stop the public witch-hunt minus a few right-winged New Yorkers.

Those were the reasons why Spider-Woman called herself Detective Lee's number one fan. He was a man that strove for truth and justice even if he didn't get the truth out nor justice in the case of Peter Parker. He did make a promise to Spider-Woman though. He promised that he would look into it so long as she would help him out from time to time. Justice is slow, but Spider-Woman? Well, Spider-Woman was a lot faster than justice ever hoped to be.

"Why not just call 911?" He spoke as he exited his vehicle onto the rainy New York street that was covered in midnight's shadow.

"Because you told me cops are dumb and I believed you." She was perched on a nearby lamppost looking down at the soggy detective. "They get their fingers in stuff, do stuff, you know, not smart stuff."

Lee pointed at the old, vacated apartment complex. "You going to tell me what I'm going to find in there?"

"Fifth floor," she glanced up, "Some men who aren't moving anytime soon. And some… Other things you don't want to see."

"Are these the guys I asked you to tag?" Lee stopped to recall their names. "The Miller Twins?"

"Them be the guys." Spider-Woman jumped down next to the detective. "I was thinking that I would just stalk them for a bit longer, but this was bad. I couldn't ignore it. It's bad."

"You think I can't handle what's up there? Is it time-sensitive? Should we be getting a move on here?" He studied her soaked cowl and wondered how cold she was. Did Spider-Woman even get cold? He honestly had no idea what the woman was or wasn't capable of. He saw her punch a guy halfway across a room once and she can do that web-slinging/shooting thing, but that was mostly what he knew.

"The Twins are secured, of course." She shook her head. "But it's too late for the others."

The detective let out a deep sigh and covered his eyes with his palms. "I don't want to hear that, Spi."

"I can still call the cops instead. Anonymous tip."

"These are my guys, I'm bringing them in. End of story." He spat through the rain.

She titled her head at him. "I doubt that's where the story ends." She stepped out of the rain and into the building's foyer where the entrance door had been removed.

The building had been abandoned several years ago. A sinkhole had appeared underneath the complex's Northside which made the entire structure unsafe. The building had been abandoned immediately and all the families that lived there left behind whatever they owned. The only item that kept anyone from entering the place was some old, cheap police tape. They never even boarded up the place; it was deemed too dangerous at the time. It felt like a haunted house from a movie that no one dared to step near, maybe except for the occasional brave, adolescent child.

Lee didn't move from his position; he stared at Spider-Woman's shadowed figure as she stood inside the crumbling wreck. "Doesn't look safe for someone like me." He glowered into the darkness.

Spider-Woman stepped towards the edge of the street's incandescent glow. "Don't worry, I'll keep you safe." She assured him in a joking manner.

He still showed a sign of fear in his expression. "You're a lot lighter than me, Spi. I've also seen you jump as high as twenty feet." Guess that was one more ability he could add to the list. "I don't think it's safe for me to be going in that place."

"The Twins did it." She leaned against the edge of the door frame. "They got to the fifth floor safe and sound, but you know… I could always carry you instead."

The detective quickly shook his head in response. "Somehow that sounds a lot worse than me just going in on my own right."

"Come on." She proceeded to laugh at him. "I could toss you over my shoulder and swing up the side of the building. I'll throw you through the window; it'll be a great time for everyone."

"I have no idea how you find any of this funny right now." He stepped through the building's doorway to meet the woman face-to-face. "How about you lead the way and I'll pray to Jesus that we both make it through."

"Oh, please," Spider-Woman lifted her hand, "I don't want Jesus wasting favors on me."

Lee pulled a flashlight off of his belt. "Fine. I won't waste my prayers on people who don't appreciate it."

"I'm not saying I don't appreciate that kind of attitude. I'm just saying that there are people out there who could use it more than me. You know, that's if Jesus is listening."

Spider-Woman carefully moved forward as the detective closely followed behind. Lee tripped over a small object on the floor and stumbled into her back. It was a moment of panic for the detective as he imagined himself falling through the wooden boards and down into the endless sinkhole.

She grabbed onto him while quickly turning around. "What are you doing?"

"I'm not a fan of heights." He spoke as he let out an anxious breath.

If he could only see the look on Spider-Woman's face, he would come to realize how annoyed she was. "We're on the main floor, Terry. There's not far to fall from here."

"There's a bottomless sinkhole beneath this place!" He shouted at her as quietly as someone could shout.

"This is the Eastside," Spider-Woman pointed downward, "And that's the Northside," she pointed over. "The sinkhole is on the Northside of the complex. We'll be okay over here. What kind of coward are you? Heights? Really?"

Lee glowered angrily back at her. "I'm no type of coward. I said I don't like heights. Heights aren't like people. Now, people, I can deal with people, but heights? No one can control heights."

"I'm sure Jesus will catch you." She jested.

"You're a real American comedian, aren't you?"

"I like to think so." She continued to move forward. "Maybe I should take my show on the road? What do you think?"

"I think," Lee stumbled behind her again, "you should stick to what you're good at."

"Ouch." Spider-Woman pivoted towards the detective and pointed at a case of rotted stairs. "You know exactly what to say to charm the ladies."

"If I've learned one thing about you," he moved slightly ahead of her, "It's that you're not particularly ladylike."

She lifted her fist to her chest and dramatically threw her head back. "Oh dear. How rude of you to be going off insulting women like that."

"Uh-huh." He scoffed.

"Come on. I'm wearing pink; isn't that ladylike enough for you?" She said as she pulled at the edges of her costume.

The detective mounted the bottom step of the daunting staircase. "Can we just get this show on the road?" He gestured up the stairs with his flashlight.

Spider-Woman placed her hands on the side of her hips. "I'm just trying to lighten the mood before… Well, before I ruin your night."

"Considering how long we've been dicking around down here for," Lee started to climb the creaking steps, "I wouldn't be surprised if those Miller boys are already gone."

"My web lasts roughly ten hours before it starts to dissolve." She crept behind the cautious man. "And then another couple hours before it fully disappears. I wrapped those fools in some unbreakable cocoons, so I doubt they've gone anywhere."

"How does that even work?" He twisted his head to see her but continued to gradually ascend the stairs. "Like, how does that web stuff even work?"

"No idea." She truthfully didn't know how it worked. "Radiation poisoning is my guess."

"Are you kidding me?" His eyes went wide. "Radiation poisoning?"

"I was exposed to some kind of radiation in the most uncomfortable ways you could imagine." She gave him a nudge at the top of the stairs. "I'm not a scientist, at least not that kind of scientist, so I wouldn't know."

"But you're a scientist?" He stared up the second set of decaying steps. Four more to go…

"Scientist to be, but that's enough." She gave him an additional nudge up the new set of stairs. "I tell you too much and who knows what you'll find out about me, detective. I do wear a mask for a reason."

One-by-one, step-by-step, the two slowly treaded up the remaining four stories. Obviously, this isn't how Spider-Woman would have done it herself. When she found the fellas the first time, she did just literally smash through the fifth-story window. Five seconds later the Miller twins were wrapped up and ten seconds later things got a lot worse.

She took a step ahead of Lee and put a hand on his chest. Spider-Woman had what Lee would describe as the average stature of a woman, but Lee himself was a big guy. A man over six feet tall and broad shoulders just like his daddy; he felt it was a touch ridiculous when this woman stopped him in his place. She could easily break me in half, he thought to himself. What a strange world it was.

"Prepare yourself." She said.

"After climbing five flights of this rotting hell, I'm prepared for anything." But he wasn't prepared at all for what he saw in the room.

Spider-Woman walked over to a door adjacent to the worn stairway. The door itself was wide open and Lee could hear muffled screams pouring out into the hall. If the Miller Twins were wrapped up in cozy cocoons as Spi suggested, then that would be the two of them. But there was something else; something else much more sinister poured from that room and into the hall. It was the stench of death.

"You're right, I don't want to see this." He stopped and stared at her.

"But you need to see it." She pointed in the room.

He took in a deep breath despite the scent of the dead. He prayed and hoped that it wasn't as bad as it could be; that it wasn't as bad as he expected it to be. But it was always worse, wasn't it? People did bad and disgusting things. This he knew. It was more proof that humanity was a blight on this beautiful, little planet. He often thought what God was up to when he created mankind. God created man in his image, but really God? That can't be right, he thought.

What did Lee find when he entered that apartment? He found all sorts of awful ideas and thinkings that he didn't want to think or know. The Miller Twins were tightly bound in Spider-Woman's radioactive webbings. Were they radioactive, he wondered. If they were, that was probably not a good thing, but that was beside the point right now. With the two young men were two very young and very dead young women. The young women had been bound in chains.

"Not good." Spider-Woman shocked Lee out of the moment.

"This does not look good at all." He lifted his head to meet Spider-Woman. "I thought these boys were selling dope, not kidnapping young girls."

"I took it upon myself to have a glance around while I waited for you to arrive."

"That's tampering with evidence." He spoke sternly at her. "You can't go around tampering with evidence, Spi."

"Too late, already happened." She stepped over the body of one of the captured twins. The two were webbed tightly to the floor, so there was no possible escape for them. And the dead girls in question? They were both chained to a non-functioning radiator face down on a moldy mattress.

"What did you do?" Lee said as he looked over at the girls who had flies crawling and buzzing around them.

Spider-Woman became lost in darkness as she stepped into the corner of the room. Lee pointed his flashlight away from the girls and up towards Spider-Woman.

"Found this." She wiggled a smartphone in her hand as she picked it up off a dust-coated desk.

"Anything on it?" The detective questioned.

"There's a lock on the phone, so I wouldn't know." She shrugged at him. "But I'll tell you what did happen when I got here."

"And…?"

"The phone rang." She moved closer to the detective. "And I answered it."

Lee looked excited. "And?!"

"The man on the other line sounded super pissed. He said something along the lines of, 'Where did you assholes go? I'm going to break your legs when I find you. You know he's going to want you dead when we find you, right?'. He hung up after that."

"They did something bad?" He raised his eyebrows.

Spider-Woman gestured at the dead bodies. "No shit, Sherlock. They killed two girls and I know exactly what this is about."

"Spi, we can't get into this again. You know there isn't anything I can do about it, right?"

"That's just it, you're the only person who can do anything about it." She bowed her head at the bodies. "These women are dead and you're saying no one cares about that?"

He puckered his lips and nodded his head. "I ain't saying that these guys won't be prosecuted for murder-"

She interrupted Lee, "That isn't what this is about and you know that."

"Nobody cares, Spi." He shouted in response. "Nobody cares about what's really going on here."

Anger started to swell up in her tone. "You don't care? You don't care what's going on?"

"Spi," he sighed at her, "I work homicide cases and you know this. The rest of them… There aren't enough of them who care about some underage girls from foreign countries who don't even have rights here."

"They have rights as human beings!" She slammed her fist against the desk and as expected, it broke in half underneath her.

"These men will do their time." He spoke calmly to her. "They'll be put away for what's left of their lives, but… But no one's gonna follow up with what was really going on here."

"I thought I knew you; I thought you were a good person. I came to you because I knew out of everyone that I could trust you. I thought we were helping each other out, but now it's just me on my own again."

Lee shined his flashlight around the room. "Take whatever evidence that's here that'll help you out. No one will notice because no one is looking."

"And that's it?"

"Remember how I saved your ass?" He started to raise his voice at her. "Remember how I refused to join the godforsaken witch-hunt for Spider-Woman and instead proved your innocence? Do you remember any of that?"

"You never found out what actually happened to Peter Parker." She raised her voice in turn. "Whatever you found in his blood, no one knows what it was or where it came from. Either that or they refuse to say. Peter didn't see any justice that day."

"But at least the public knows that you didn't kill him."

"A lot of good that's done me." She dismissed his remark. "There's still an entire committee of assholes out there trying to stop me."

"To be fair, vigilante justice is breaking the law." He responded. "I can only help you so much, Spi. And I will do as much as I can, but for the rest… You gotta figure that out."

"I used to have a much higher opinion of the NYPD." Spider-Woman dismissed him once more. "My dad's a cop too, you know? And I thought they were all like him. Sometimes, it's hard to believe we're so ignorant."

He smiled at her. "My daddy was a pretty good cop, too. There aren't a lot of cops like him left."

"What happened?" She asked.

"We elected a lunatic for a president and crazy, white assholes have been empowered ever since." He glanced at the young girls. "And the rest of us gotta fucking deal with it. I can't technically help you find out what's truly going on here, but I won't stop you. And if something somewhere comes up or if I find something, you'll be the first person I call. All I ask is that we still help each other out."

Spider-Woman showed him the phone one last time. "I'm taking this, then. Not much else here for me."

"Spi…" He thought over his words before saying anything else. She was a better person than he was and she deserved to know it. "I do believe that if you keep getting out there, doing what you're doing, things could change. Maybe you're not aware of it, but you bring a lot of hope to a lot of people. The way the system is now, it's broken and people know it. Seeing you out there stopping these assholes… It brings some true justice back to the people. When Spider-Woman shows up, you just know your day is going to be made."

"I appreciate the sentiment." And with those final words, she jumped out the apartment's living room window disappearing into the night.

When Gwen arrived home at two in the morning, she decided to creep down into her dad's kitchen in hopes of a late-night snack. Or rather, a late-night meal.

"Gwen?" A voice spoke from the dim kitchen.

It was May drinking a bottle of wine for her usual personal reasons. May was Peter's aunt which still kind of made things odd for Gwen. After Gwen and Peter became friends, his aunt May met her dad, George. Both him and May hit it off and then Peter died and then May starting living with George and now May is pretty much Gwen's pseudo mom. It all felt juvenile and strange when you considered the fact that Gwen was 26 years old, but she had her reasons for still living with her dad.

"How is it?" Gwen spoke as she opened the refrigerator.

May took a long sip from her glass of wine. "Can you explain to me how you're not obese?"

Gwen chuckled as she perused the goods the fridge had to offer, but ultimately decided against any sort of meal.

"I've seen you eat an entire box of Krispy Kreme donuts in one sitting all to yourself. Can't say I'm not jealous."

"Are you okay?" Gwen turned around and offered May a soft smile after closing the fridge.

"I can't remember the last time I was okay, hun." She poured herself more wine. "Do you want some?"

"Do I ever say no?" Gwen pulled a glass out of a nearby cupboard and sat across from May at the kitchen table.

"How was your outing with MJ?" May asked politely as she poured Gwen a glass. "You two have a good time?"

"We weren't there for too long. MJ really wanted to get home."

May took another sip. "If she's looking for the man of her dreams, bar diving isn't going to help her out. Better off a spinster."

"No one says spinster anymore, May."

"I just did." She laughed at Gwen. "How about you? Meet anyone?"

Gwen sighed at May. "You know I only go because MJ wants to. I'm not looking for anyone."

May eyed the girl suspiciously. "But you didn't answer my question. Did you meet anyone?"

"Yeah, I did." Although Gwen knew it didn't matter much. "A very odd man. A very sad person."

"Sounds perfect for you. Did you get his number?'

"May," Gwen rolled her eyes, "I just told you I'm not looking for a relationship, okay?"

"How do you know until you try?" May grinned.

"Just how much about my life has my dad told you?" Gwen glared at the woman.

May drank more wine with a stupid grin on her face. "Nothing, nothing, sweety. He just said that as far as he knows you've never had a boyfriend. Or girlfriend. You know, whatever you're interested in."

"Oh my god," Gwen grunted. "MJ and I just got into an argument about this. I don't want to talk about this again."

"You two good?"

"Yeah, yeah," Gwen sighed once more, "we're fine, we're okay."

May studied Gwen's exasperation. "Maybe you should get some sleep, hun."

"I'm not really a fan of sleep, you know that."

"It's not going to hurt you." May moved the glass away from Gwen.

"Fine," Gwen sprung out of her chair, "But this is coming with me." She said as she grabbed the bottle of wine.

"Only because I love you, I'll let you have it."

"Yeah?" Gwen grinned. "Or else you'll fight me for it?"

"Just go to bed." She waved Gwen away.

Gwen did exactly that, but she didn't go to sleep. Mostly she didn't sleep because she could healthily function off of a couple of hours a night. It was better that way. Sleep, sleep was always the worst for Gwen. Her dreams were a melting pot of madness, depression, and horror. Nothing good came from Gwen's dreams. Much like the city that surrounded her, she preferred to never sleep.


	3. Chapter 3: Clouds Over Me

People don't like unfamiliar things, at least not at first. We get used to change; we adapt to circumstance even if we don't want to. The truth is everything changes whether or not you want it to or whether or not you're a willing participant in the matter. If you rage against the changes that society forces upon you, you're just going to end up getting hurt. Not every battle is worth fighting in and not everything is worth fighting for. Sometimes you just need to let go.

It was Sunday afternoon and although the rain from last night had stopped, it still coated the city streets. Just like New York, Gwen could feel the impending, ominous cloud that hung above her blonde head. MJ had called Gwen that morning asking if they could meet up somewhere for coffee. Gwen was relieved to receive a call from her best friend, but not so relieved in having to talk to her again. The previous night she had said some things she wished she hadn't and other things she was glad she did. But nonetheless, MJ was her friend, so she wouldn't shun the woman.

MJ asked that they meet at a new Italian coffee house that opened up a few blocks from MJ's apartment. Gwen was always happier meeting at a Starbucks or some other generic coffee chain; she didn't appreciate the change. But Gwen also preferred to just let MJ have her way with the world. As mentioned before, the girl had already been through enough in life. Gwen had a suspicion that MJ wanted to talk about Peter, but Gwen never wanted to talk about Peter.

Gwen didn't care for the look of the café or coffee shop or whatever an Italian coffee shop was called. It seemed pretentious to her and Gwen had a keen dislike for the pretentious. MJ liked to refer to it as 'class' and she fancied herself to be a classy woman despite being the front-woman of a heavy rock band. Gwen was into things that were just okay, normal, nonchalant, if you will, but not minimalistic Italian cafes.

Gwen had ordered a normal coffee, just a coffee, which thankfully they did sell. She had hoped to find a private or dark corner to sit in, but she had no such luck. The place had been lit with pure white walls covered in pure white lights that were reflected off of the pure white tables. As well, the place was rather busy which also annoyed Gwen, but she would deal with it. You'd think that Spider-Woman who goes around saving people's lives would be more of a people person. She did like people; she just didn't want to have to spend too much time around them.

She managed to find a lone table in a corner next to the shop's large front window. Not before long, thankfully, the lovely Mary Jane showed up.

"Hi." She said to Gwen as she stood next to the table.

Gwen pointed at the front counter. "Did you want to get something first? I already got a coffee myself."

"I'm fine, for now." MJ smiled as her eyes moved around the café before sitting down across from Gwen.

"You," Gwen paused for a second, "want to talk or something?"

"I'm really sorry about how I acted last night," MJ spoke to Gwen, but she was staring over Gwen's shoulder. "I shouldn't have said those things."

"I was thinking the same." Gwen was curious as to what her friend was looking for. "Are you okay?"

"Well, no." Now MJ put her attention on Gwen. "You know I'm not okay, but I'm trying to be okay. I wish you would talk about Peter with me and I don't know why you refuse, but I don't want to force you to talk about him."

"Good." Gwen sipped her drink. "Because there's nothing to talk about when it comes to Peter."

"There is." MJ sighed in an annoyed fashion. "But again, let's worry about it later. Can we just talk like friends and talk about friend stuff?"

"Always." Gwen smiled.

"Are you coming to rehearsal tonight?" MJ cringed upon mentioning it. "You're my number one drummer and you know I need you."

"I'll come, I'll come," Gwen responded.

MJ rubbed at the side of her mouth and crooked her head. "Are you just saying that because you don't want to talk about that either? You've missed our last three rehearsals."

Gwen dipped her head at the table. "I'll be there for you, MJ. We've talked about it before; it's not what I'm going to do for a living. If you plan on going big like you say you are eventually you're going to have to find a new drummer."

"Do you just not like being the drummer? I know you host those cover nights at Kelsey's. Would you rather just do your own solo thing?"

"Ah-" Gwen lifted her head back up, "-that's not it. I do those because it pays well enough and I enjoy it more or less. I'm not interested in being… In a band."

"You can leave anytime you want Gwen. I never forced you into-"

Gwen raised a hand to stop MJ, "-That isn't it. I like being in a band with you. I'm just saying that when you go on tour or whatever, I'm not going to be able to go with you. My life is here in New York and I like it that way."

"I just think it would be nice to get away from everything, you know?" MJ stared over Gwen's shoulder again. "New York is full of bad memories and maybe I could just go and not have to come back to it, you know?"

"MJ…" Gwen could sense another argument was about to emerge. "My dad lives here, I go to school here, I'm hoping to get a job here. I'm not going to leave that because you want me to."

Randomly, one of the baristas came out from behind the bar and brought a drink over to Mary Jane.

"We didn't order anything." But Gwen was aware of what exactly had transpired.

The barista's eyes went wide and he pointed at a man sitting at the table behind the girls. "The drink is courtesy of the man in blue."

Gwen pivoted her head around to see a young and very attractive man dressed in a fine blue suit. She glanced back at MJ who gave the gentleman a wink.

"He also asked if he could get your number." The barista added.

Mary Jane grinned as she pulled one of her personal business cards out from her purse. "You can give him this, thanks."

With palms open and a blank expression, Gwen stared at MJ. "Really? That's why you've been staring over my shoulder this entire time?"

"I mostly did it for the free drink." MJ let out a small giggle. "But sorry, back to what you were saying."

"Hey guess what?" Gwen chose to ignore what had just happened. "I got that internship at Oscorp."

MJ looked confused. "I don't remember you mentioning that you got an interview there. I knew you applied, but…"

"I did mention it." Gwen wasn't surprised that MJ had forgotten. "It was a couple of weeks ago. It was just before Keith broke up with you, remember?"

"Oh, Gwen, I'm…" MJ had only dated Keith for a couple of months, but she thought they had a special connection. "I'm sorry, Gwen. I just, I took it kinda hard, you know?"

"Yeah, I know." Gwen agreed.

"Are you sure you want to work there?"

"I don't see the problem." And Gwen knew that MJ asked because it was where Peter used to work. "It's a good company and the guy who interviewed me seemed nice. It's going to be good for me."

"Did you mention Peter to them?" MJ asked.

"No, I didn't." Gwen quickly snapped backed. "Why would I mention that I knew him? How is that even relevant?"

"Maybe you never met him," A scowl grew on MJ's face, "but Pete knew Harry Osborn. They hung out a few times and Peter probably mentioned his friends at some point."

"I didn't think it was worth bringing up." Gwen relaxed her nerves. "Besides, I want to get in on my own accord, not because of someone I knew. Peter talked highly of the place and he really loved it, so I figured why not?"

MJ forced a smile. "He did love it there. I'm sure it'll be good for you, too."

"I have a question." A twinkle grew in the corner of Gwen's eye. "Do you carry those business cards around with you just so you can hand them out to handsome men?"

Her words managed to pull a genuine smile from MJ's face. "It's super slick, isn't it?"

"It's a very MJ thing to do." Gwen laughed. "It certainly makes you look way cooler than you actually are, you big nerd."

"I am not a nerd." MJ playfully shoved at Gwen's arm. "You're the real nerd. All that weird shit you know how to do with computers."

"That isn't weird shit, MJ. I go to school for it; people go to school for it."

"I was always jealous of you and Peter." These words that came out of MJ's mouth sent Gwen into an immediate panic.

"Whaat?" Gwen could feel her heart drop into her stomach. Did MJ know what happened between her and Peter and just didn't mention it until now? If MJ had known this entire time, why didn't she say something before? But Gwen understood in this moment of panic what the truth was. MJ wasn't talking about what happened between Gwen and Peter; there was no way she could have known.

"You and Peter," MJ repeated herself. "You two were always so smart. You guys are just the kind of people who can do anything that you set your minds to. You guys were always so into that kinda stuff and you just got it. I just, I never got it."

"You've done well enough," Gwen observed the typical MJ behavior of underestimating herself. "You got a degree in Business Administration and you were top of your class. Literally best in your class which isn't anything to frown at. And through all of that, you kept your band together. You've done a lot because you're strong and you're smart."

"Gwen…" MJ looked into her untouched drink. "You don't- You still don't remember what happened to you all those years you were gone?"

Gwen wondered why MJ felt compelled to dig up such an old and buried topic. "Why are you asking me this right now?"

"You told me that your psychologist or whatever said that one day it might come up. One day you might remember again."

"To be frank, Mary Jane…" Gwen had never forgotten those days. She had remembered every last second down to every last detail of being there. "My psychologist also admitted to me that I'm better off not remembering. Some things are so traumatic it's best that they're buried forever."

"It would bug me all the time. You know? Not knowing?"

"What can I say." Gwen shrugged. "You get over it." But you don't.

For a single moment, MJ's eyes grew incredibly wide. "You're not going to believe this." MJ's face was painted with a massive grin.

"No, no I am going to believe this." Gwen jabbed her finger in MJ's direction. "And I know exactly what you're going to say."

MJ's grin turned into confusion. "Did you like, see him walk in or something?"

"This is a freak coincidence and I'm going to ignore it," Gwen replied.

"It's fate Gwen, it really is." MJ laughed at Gwen's annoyance. "I have a feeling that he's going to come and talk to you."

Gwen buried her face in her palms.

Stephen saw Gwen the moment he walked into the place. He also observed that she was disregarding his presence, so he ignored her too and ordered a coffee as planned. While he waited for his order, he watched Gwen chat with her best friend and it wasn't too long before that best friend noticed Stephen. It was possible that Gwen's best friend had recognized him from the bar last night. And the expression on her face was absolutely priceless.

"Ladies." He would no longer be snubbed by Gwen. Maybe that would be considered rude, but he figured that he'd enjoy talking to the woman again.

Gwen let go of her face and looked up at the doctor. "Hello, Stephen. Fancy meeting you here."

"Amazing coincidence." He smiled.

"It's so much creepier when you say it like that." When Gwen said this, MJ laughed.

But it was utterly a coincidence in all truth. It was an exceedingly rare coincidence, but a coincidence nonetheless. Stephen gave his compulsory encounter a second thought. Gwen didn't seem particularly pleased at the sight of him even if her friend was amused by the chance meeting.

Before he had the opportunity to back out of the conversation, MJ spoke up. "Nice to meet you, Mister…?"

"Doctor." He responded immediately. "Doctor Stephen Strange."

MJ straightened out in her seat and her eyes lit up at the doctor. "Doctor? What kind of doctor are you?"

"A Doctor of Medicine and Philosophy." He smiled.

MJ let out a minuscule squeak. "Oh really? I didn't know someone could be a doctor in philosophy."

"It's called a Ph.D., I'm sure you're familiar with what that is." He wasn't certain if she was joking or simply dense.

Gwen made a twisted face as she patted the back of her neck. She didn't regard MJ as an idiot, nor would she call her one, but sometimes even the smartest people can say the dumbest things. At least MJ was smart enough to plead ignorance in the matter.

Suddenly and without notice, MJ got up from the table and picked up her phone. "I'm sorry and I got stuff to do and… It was nice meeting you, doctor." She gave Gwen a quick wink assuming the doctor wouldn't notice, but he did.

Gwen let out a long sigh before saying anything to her friend. "See you tonight then?"

"Yeah, it'll be great!" MJ left the with a short nod and big grin.

Stephen stared down at Gwen. "Can I join you?" he gestured to the vacated chair.

"Of course." Gwen knew that she was a rude person at best of times, or so this had been pointed out to her by more than a few people. MJ called it 'sass', but Gwen preferred to call it 'not taking shit from anyone' which in itself sounds rude. Despite Strange claiming to be a self-loving asshole, he had been nothing but polite to Gwen. That, however, was part of his MO as Gwen had remembered him mentioning.

He sat across from her and offered up an expression of scrutiny.

"Are you deeply criticizing me?" She asked.

"I believe I'm at the point where I know all there is to know about you." He responded.

She couldn't help but smile at his remark. "It doesn't seem like there's much point in the two of us talking then, is there?"

"You misunderstand. Maybe what I meant is that I know what you're all about."

"Are you also a psychologist?" She angled her head to the side.

"No, but I understand people," he paused to catch a glimpse of the dreary city street from out the window, "Even if I don't have a lot of empathy for humankind."

Gwen leaned back in her chair. "That I'm not so sure about. You're a doctor; you got to have some level of empathy for others. And if you don't, well you might be a sociopath of some kind. And if you're a sociopath of some kind, we probably shouldn't be talking anymore.

"I'm not completely heartless if that's what you're getting at."

"You, who entirely knows me, and me, well… Well, I don't know much about you at all. Minus the whole ego thing, that-that I know." She wasn't sure how he pictured himself in this world. He didn't act like a normal person; he didn't act in a way she'd suspect.

"You're the one who made it obvious that you're not happy. You must believe it was a mistake to have conversed with me in the first place considering everything you told me. You told me something that you'd never said to anyone before and that says a lot about you as a person."

"What does it say?" Her question was barely audible.

"I have a problem where I care too little, whereas you have the problem where you care too much." He waited a moment before continuing. "You're not nearly as jaded as you pretend to be. You want exactly what the rest of us want."

Her eyes lifted and she gave him a smile. "Now you do sound exactly like my psychologist. Are the two of you friends?"

"This is exactly my point. You defend yourself by being combative during a casual conversation. You always have the perfect response; the perfect witty remark."

"That is literally what my psychologist said to me last time I spoke to her." She shifted forward in her seat. "I like to think that I'm rather self-aware of my own issues. Or, I try to be. But there are bigger things out in the world than for me to get stuck wallowing in my own despair. I prefer the good old fashioned way of burying something deep down inside of yourself and letting it rot you from the inside out."

"That's how I prefer to do it." He concurred with her.

"I guess fancy doctorates don't make you any more immune to humankind's failings than anyone else."

"Ah yes," he smirked, "but the difference between me and the rest of society is that I'm rich and far more competent."

"And that's all that matters?"

"What was your friend's name, by the way?" He seemingly changed the subject. "She looks very familiar, but I can't place it."

"You saw her at the bar last night, so there's that." She shrugged. "Does it matter what her name is?"

"I was curious about her, is all."

"Yeah," Gwen scratched at the side of her neck, "she has the uncanny ability to do that to men."

"Hmm," he tilted his head at her, "I'm not interested in your friend romantically if that concerns you."

A burst of laughter sprang from Gwen's mouth, "Oh! I wasn't really worried."

"That was rude." He crossed his arms over his chest. "If I was interested in your friend, I wouldn't have any issues getting her."

"Getting her?" Gwen laughed again. "Like women are some sort of prize that you claim? Have you ever had a woman turn you down before in your life?"

"If I'm not going to include you," he stretched out his palms, "Then I would say I've had one experience where a woman turned me down."

"And how was that?" She wondered. If anything, she wondered how that scene would have played out? Gwen always found it entertaining when she watched poor MJ turn a guy down. Not once did she see a man take it well.

"Worst day of my life." He spoke bluntly. "She was the love of my life and I asked her to marry me. She said no. My heart's been crushed ever since."

Gwen's jaw dropped slightly. "That's… Really sad."

"You said you were in love with your best friend's boyfriend. How did that turn out for you?"

"Besides accidentally killing him?" Gwen cringed at herself when she said the words. It was a mistake to have ever mentioned it to Stephen. "We got close once while… And we kissed and then he realized he'd made a terrible mistake and then we never talked about it. I, uh… I can't stop feeling like a shitty best friend over it. It's a garbage thing to do to someone else, but… But I was in love with him, like an idiot."

"Love is a poison." His eyes glazed over. "It has a tendency to cause… Unbearable amounts of pain."

"You make it sound so bad when you put it like that." Gwen frowned. "How does that cliché saying go? You know…? It's better to have loved and lost then to have never loved at all?"

"I disagree." He blinked back into this reality. "It's done nothing to better me as a person, if anything… If anything it's made me worse."

"And you were calling me jaded, just like five minutes ago."

He pointed at her. "I said you're not as jaded as you pretend to be. I'm exactly as jaded as I am."

Gwen heard the pattering of large raindrops against the café's large window. There were more important matters that needed her attention. Instead, she wasted her time talking to a man half as depressed as her or possibly more so. Wallowing was something she promised she wouldn't do.

"This has been great," she snapped out of her train of thought "but I've done enough self-pitying BS for the day. I have –I have shit to do, I guess."

"Very well." His expression was somber. "If fate will have it, maybe we will see each other again?"

"Oh, good thing I don't believe in fate." She stretched out her shoulders while standing up. "But yeah, maybe I'll see you again, doc." She considered one final question for him. "What is it that you think I want? That you say the rest of us want?"

He gingerly lifted up his ceramic coffee mug. "What do the rest of us want? To be with someone else. You want to be with someone as much as the rest of us."

With his final words, she vanished out into the pouring New York rain without another word and she didn't give him another thought. In the last moments of their conversation, she became consumed in her own thoughts about Peter and Mary Jane. She batted them away and replaced them with the young girls from last night. There were young girls like those two scattered throughout New York's dark corners and shaded buildings, but no one seemed to give a damn.

Somebody, somewhere was smuggling girls, young foreign girls, into the streets of New York. Gwen had come across it a few times already, but last night was the first time she found anyone dead. You'd figure that human trafficking would be high on the NYPD's list of 'shit that shouldn't be happening in our city', but it wasn't. It wasn't even on their goddamn radar. You could thank the President of the United States of America for this little fact.

Four years ago, somehow, and only God knows how, the American public elected a right-winged lunatic into a state of power. He was a staunch supporter of a new movement that focused on regaining the freedoms that America once had. And by America, what he actually meant was angry, white, men. One could argue that that wasn't what their group's members consisted of since it had a diverse cultural background. These were just additional lies and propaganda spread by their own disenfranchised members.

America had been divided in two and the rift was getting bigger all the time. Those who supported the President liked to refer to themselves as none other than Hydra. Hydra was an outspoken organization that had existed since as far back as World War II. These outspoken individuals became empowered through the new President and his political alignments. People were no longer afraid to admit that they were a proud member of Hydra.

Gwen was obviously not any kind of supporter when it came to Hydra, but she had no choice but to deal with them. They were the reason why nobody cared about the foreign girls being trafficked openly on the streets of New York. Supporters of Hydra strongly opposed any type of immigration, legal or not. No cop in the NYPD was going to help those girls, but Gwen would. Not Gwen per se, but Spider-Woman.

It was going to be another long day for Spider-Woman, but what days weren't? When you only slept two hours a night, you had all the time in the world to be productive.


	4. Chapter 4: Not So Friendly

We take too many things for granted in this world. There are certain things we expect to just be handed directly to us; we think the world owes it to us. What we fail to understand is that we don't deserve a single thing. The Universe doesn't stop to contemplate what's fair to humanity; it doesn't think about anyone at all. Fair is a concept created by mankind and it is a faulty illusion. Humanity has proved that fairness is not a quantifiable scale, but instead an arbitrary one. What's fair to you might not be fair to me.

Peter was gifted with technology. He was a freak of nature for all Gwen was concerned. The young man had the innate ability to bend computers to his own will. Gwen could only dream to be as gifted as he was, but she was always determined to try. She assisted him in building a few fun pieces of questionable tech which Gwen was glad to have today. God forbid any of it broke because she wasn't certain that she knew how to fix anything.

There was one particular piece of non-ethical technology that Gwen hadn't made much use of until now. The object in question was a lock breaking device. It wasn't a lock breaking device for physical locks, but instead for smartphone locks. Originally Peter had made the device with the intention of using it against Flash Thompson. Flash was Peter's high-school bully who miraculously ended up going to the same college as Peter. Everyone hates an inconvenient coincidence.

In the end, Peter made the device and got it to work, although he didn't have the spine to use it. Gwen had offered to steal Flash's phone herself, but Peter begged her not to. Even though it would have been fun, Peter knew it was the wrong thing to do. He was as straight as an arrow when it came to morality. It often left Gwen wondering if he would have made a better hero than herself.

Gwen secretly held on to the device even after Peter had demanded she get rid of it. Spider-Woman fancied herself a detective of sorts and that kind of tech was just too sweet to pass up. Circumstances had never brought her to use the device until now. Without Peter's tech, she would not have been able to find out what was on the Miller Twin's phone… Whichever Miller Twin the phone did belong to.

After she returned home from her second fascinating encounter with Dr. Strange, she decided it was time to dig up that dusty phone cracker. In all honesty, it wasn't that dusty. Gwen had a short wooden desk at home in her bedroom that she used for studying and the device sat by its lonesome in the bottom right-hand drawer. But before getting into that, she would get into May's wine collection. Or maybe dad's scotch?

As Gwen stood next to the glass cabinet located in the corner of her dad's kitchen, he called her name, "Gwen?"

Gwen whipped around to see his grey face. He was a tall and foreboding man, but was always soft and forgiving when it came to the ones he loved. She recalled how he looked when she was thirteen. At the time his hair was starting to turn white at its fringes and he would only ever be seen clean-shaven. Now, thirteen years later, his hair had gone full white and his face was hidden behind a large beard. His eyes were deeper than she had remembered from those days. He always looked worn and tired, but content still.

He furrowed his eyes at her. "It's two in the afternoon on a Sunday, Gwen. What are you doing looking for a drink?"

"2 pm on a Sunday really isn't that bad considering my track record." She made an excuse.

"May said you took two-thirds of a bottle of wine with you up to your bedroom last night and that was after you had gone out drinking with MJ."

"May is a tattletale." Gwen opened the cabinet anyway.

Her father approached her and closed the glass doors on her hand. "It's time for a break, Gwen."

"Hey," Gwen flicked her hand back, "that's not very nice. What's wrong with drinking in the afternoon on a Sunday? Lots of people do it."

"And I would understand that if they weren't also an alcoholic."

"I'm not an alcoholic, dad," she argued. "Some days I don't drink and I can live without it."

He positioned himself between Gwen and the glass cabinet. "Then you'll be okay without it today, too."

"I'll be honest, I've had a stressful life and I just want to relax." Gwen backed away from him.

"When was the last time you talked to Dr. Sofen?"

"You know it's been a couple of years." Gwen had no intentions of paying her another visit. Some people rubbed Gwen the wrong way and Dr. Sofen was no exception. The only reason she ended up seeing the psychologist was because her father had insisted on it. In his defense, he was only trying to help.

"You really should start talking to someone again." He frowned at her. "It would be good for you, Gwen. It isn't going to do you any harm."

"I don't want to see Dr. Sofen; I never liked her." She admitted.

"Fine then," he threw up his arms, "go see someone else, I don't care. Just see a doctor, alright Gwen? Promise me you'll do something."

"I'm getting better all the time," she lied. "I know it doesn't always look like I am and some days are worse than others, but… But I promise you that I'm getting better."

"Then don't drink anything tonight."

Gwen knew she wasn't going to get anywhere with him. "Okay, I won't have anything to drink today that isn't water or juice or something without booze in it." She assured him even though as soon as he turned his back on her she would be right back down to get what she was after.

"I wanted to ask you for a favor if you're feeling up for it." He didn't wait for her to say yes or no before he continued. "The Patrolmen's Benevolent Association is hosting a charity ball next weekend for fundraising purposes. I could use a date."

"You have a girlfriend, Dad." Gwen glared at him with a perplexed expression. "Why not just take her?"

"She's one of the volunteer's, Gwen. Remember?"

May volunteered for a billion different things at any given moment in time, so there was no way Gwen was going to remember. She should have remembered though. It was sloppy to miss details especially in regards to your own life. What kind of self-proclaimed detective forgets what her own step-mom does for a living?

"I'm sorry, I forgot." Gwen massaged her brow. "I'm a bad daughter. Uh, so… When is this?"

"Saturday, two weeks from now. Just thought I'd give you plenty of time to decide."

"No, I'll come. I'll be there for you." Gwen saw this as a fortuitous opportunity to eavesdrop on police society. Not only that, it was a yearly event that brimmed with the arrogantly wealthy.

"Are you sure?" George knew Gwen to be a flake at best of times. The girl had a nasty habit of dodging her way out of responsibilities at the last minute. "There is no pressure to go. I just thought it would be something nice for the two of us to do together and May would be grateful to see you there."

"Don't worry; I want to go. I do, honestly."

"Good." He gave her a hard slap on her back. It was a bizarre action that he had done to both Gwen and her brother since they were children… Not so much her brother since he wasn't around anymore. "Have plans for the rest of your day?"

"Prepare for my internship, I guess?" she lied again. "I start tomorrow morning, so that's a thing I'm doing for the summer."

"Ah, that's right," he recalled her informing him at some point about that. "What are you going to be doing for them exactly?"

"Just some QA testing, nothing remarkable." Her answer lacked enthusiasm.

"You don't seem excited about it." George walked over to the fridge and started pulling a number of its contents on to the counter. "Want a sandwich? I'll make you a sandwich."

"Only if you make me four." Gwen hadn't eaten since the previous day which was uncharacteristic of her. It took a lot of calories for her to use her powers and without the calories, she was basically useless. She had also learned over time that certain powers took significantly more energy than others.

Her dad let out a short chuckle. "You are a strange one, Gwen. But four it is. What do you want on them?"

Gwen made herself comfortable at the lengthy kitchen table. Almost everything in that house was exactly how she had remembered it from when she was a child. All of the furniture was the same; it was as if her dad's style never left the 80s. However, all of the appliances were brand new including dad's 50 or whatever so inch television. She recalled sitting on that worn, puke green sofa next to her dad watching whatever sport he wanted to watch. She didn't care what they watched because what mattered is that they were all there. Everyone was laughing, and smiling, and happy.

"Gwen? What do you want on your sandwiches?" Her father asked again.

She brought herself out of her memory and back into the real world. "Everything you got."

"Everything?" He raised a brow in question.

"Yeah, you know I'll eat anything."

"When you were younger, you wouldn't eat anything." He fumbled around with some jars of condiments. "Pickiest eater ever. Your brother wasn't nearly as bad as you. I remember when you were ten all you would eat for an entire month was macaroni and cheese. You downright refused anything else."

"You and mom got into a huge argument about it." She remembered. "After that, I agreed to eat some vegetables once in a while."

"People argue about the dumbest shit." He was finished his struggle with the jars and was now spreading random condiments onto slices of bread. Her dad was not a chef.

"You never really talked about what it was like for you." Gwen hated dragging up the past, but she knew her father must have suffered just as much as her during those years.

"Well," he stopped what he was doing and turned to face Gwen, "I don't think I got better until I saw you again. I lost your mother and your brother, but there was always hope you were still out there. Every single day after you disappeared, I had hope that I would see you again. A day didn't go by where I didn't think about you. I had a feeling that you were out there, that you were somewhere. I knew I was going to see you again; I just didn't know when."

"When they found me and I just… When I came home. It was like the world had been frozen in time waiting for me. You looked different, but everything else seemed the same."

"I'll be honest, Gwen," he commenced his sandwich preparation, "the only thing I did at home after I lost all of you was sleep. I went to work all day, I came home, I slept… Over and over again. If I lost focus for just one second, I don't think I could have handled that. I was always just one step away from falling off the edge… So maybe you understand then that when I see you like this… When I see you like this Gwen, it breaks my heart."

Gwen leaned over the table and pressed her fists into her brow. "I do mean it when I say I'm getting better." But she knew this was still a lie. "I know it's a slow process, but am trying my best, dad. I'm trying my best to find reasons to be here with you on this Earth. When I feel like I don't want to be part of this life anymore, I remember that I still have you."

"You're a good person, Gwen and you've been through a lot." He moved over to the table and set down a plate in front of Gwen; a plate stacked messily with four poorly prepared sandwiches. "But I still have no idea how you manage to eat as much food as you do."

"You know," Gwen smiled, "my internship at Oscorp is a paid internship, so maybe I can start buying us some more food?"

"Don't worry about it." He waved his hands at her. "You save up that money and you pay off those loans, okay?"

Gwen scratched at the side of her face with a single finger. "Do you think I'm the only fully adult woman in New York who still lives with her dad?"

"Maybe, maybe not." He answered. "But out of all of them, you probably have the best excuse. Remember that I'm always here for you, Gwen. I'll be here to support you no matter what, and May, too."

Gwen plucked a sandwich off of the messy stack and began chewing on it.

"What do you think of May?" He wondered.

"She's a wino," Gwen spoke as she swallowed a mouthful of bread. "I'm just kidding. She's something special. You two are a great match even if I hate to admit it."

"Hate to admit it?" He asked before taking a bite from his own meal.

"I guess when you're a kid you just imagine that your parents should be together forever. It's hard to see your parents as human beings. Mom was a goddess; she was perfect, but May's pretty good, too."

"I'm glad you approve."

Gwen stood up with the plate of food in hand. "Hope you don't mind if I take the rest of this to go. I'll be in my bedroom preparing for… Work."

He nodded at her and took another bite from his sandwich.

When Gwen got to her room she put the plate down on her nightstand and stared over at her small oak desk. She had that desk since she could remember. All of the studying she ever did on her lonesome was at that very desk. When she was a child she and her brother marked up the bottom of the desk with crayons and washable markers. At one point he wrote 'Gwen's a loser' in all caps with a red felt tip. Gwen was pretty sure that that fact still stood today.

The phone, the phone; she needed to look at the phone, but her compulsion was still to have a drink when she did it. She had made a promise to her dad, but what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him. There was something interesting she discovered about being Spider-Woman and that was that it took a lot of booze to intoxicate her. She wasn't going to steal from her father's liquor cabinet since he would notice and rightfully accuse Gwen of the theft. The thought sounded ridiculous in her own mind; it was something a teenager would say, not a grown woman.

Gwen didn't have the proper moral compass of a true hero, or so she thought. She would go around capturing and punching the shit out of shitty people, but she wasn't necessarily morally superior than all of them. Most of them perhaps, but not all of them. She made excuses for why she did some of the morally incorrect things that she did, but excuses are exactly that. Gwen had nothing against using her powers to steal what she deemed to be a necessity.

There were two objects on Gwen's list of necessities and those were booze and food. Gwen was poor. She took out student loans to pay for her schooling and she didn't have an excess of funds beyond that. Her dad was nice enough to let her live with him rent-free and he paid for most of the food in the house. The problem, as mentioned before, Gwen needed a lot of food. Too much food. If her dad and May saw how much Gwen actually ate on a daily basis, especially on days she used her web-slinging abilities, they would be terrified and suspicious. Her appetite had been brought up a few times, but it was nothing to be concerned about.

So, as a poor student with the appetite of a professional team of football players, she would steal. And it was easy for Gwen to steal. She had a power which was difficult to control at best of times and consumed more calories than she liked, but it was the best power she could have asked for. Gwen had to ability to turn invisible.

Her invisibility took a great amount of concentration to maintain and on top of that it took a lot of energy. She wasn't even sure how it worked, but if she concentrated long enough she could project a barrier around herself. Conveniently, she could also project this cloak of invisibility over her own clothes and smaller items. It made stealing a breeze. All she needed was five minutes in a store to get exactly what she wanted and she didn't waste too much energy doing it. Maybe it was wrong, but Gwen had no plans on being a starving hero.

At the moment, food wasn't on her mind, but perhaps a bottle of something? No harm truly comes from one young woman stealing a $40 bottle of scotch. If anything, it's the payment that the community owes her for the services that she provides as Spider-Woman. You know what, there were even a few times where Gwen stopped a liquor store robbery. It was really annoying how often that happened in New York, but maybe it was like that anywhere you went.

Gwen carefully opened up her bedroom window which was on the second floor of the house and jumped down to the garden. Nobody saw the woman do it. She ran off into the alley behind her father's idyllic home to head downtown. The first 7-Eleven she found would be her newest victim.

It was early in the evening at this point, but the thick clouds still drowned out most of the day's sun. Gwen had done this more than a few times by now, so she had plenty of practice. As always, she would go in invisible and come out invisible, but with more stuff. She opted out of the bottle of scotch since she would have had to rob an actual liquor store for that, but instead decided a couple bottles of wine would be good enough. She also didn't feel as guilty when she stole from a big corporation. They'd be alright.

Plans rarely go according to plans; that's what Gwen learned in her few years as Spider-Woman. She had amazing timing, uncanny timing. Before she walked through those automatic doors, she sensed something was wrong. Still cloaked in invisibility, she pivoted her head toward the counter positioned to the right of the doors. Oh, and what did she see? As it turns out, a couple of people were robbing the place.

"Daylight robberies are pretty bold if you ask me." She spoke to the pair of masked individuals while staying invisible. There were two people in black ski masks. One was a woman and the other was a man. The woman was standing at the counter with a gun pressed at the clerk's face. The man stood above two patrons who were laying on the ground with their hands above their heads.

"Shut up!" The man screamed at the two customers assuming it had been one of them. "I told you not to say a goddamn word!"

"Oh, it wasn't them; it was me." Gwen shot her web out at the man's gun and disarmed him. As it clattered to the floor a look of panic filled his eyes. He already knew it was over; he knew it was the Spider-Woman.

The masked woman saw what had happened to her partner. "What the hell, Dan?"

Spider-Woman used her web once more to snatch the weapon out of the woman's hand. The pair became paralyzed by fear.

"Being a bad guy 101," Spider-Woman walked over to the masked stranger at the counter, "you never rob a store during the day and never use your criminal pal's first name."

The man clambered onto the floor to retrieve his gun, but Spider-Woman saw what was up. She used her webbing again to pin the man's outstretched hand to the floor. She quickly pivoted her body towards the woman and punched her in the face. The masked lady crumpled to the floor like a sack of potatoes. That hit was probably going to do some long term damage to the female robber.

"Holy shit!" The remaining criminal screamed. All he saw was his friend dropping to the floor after the jolting sound of an impact. He desperately began clawing the webbing off of his hand.

Spider-Woman reached her hand over the counter and lifted a phone off of its receiver. "I suggest you call 911." She said to the stunned counter attendant.

His eyes darted around the room in search of the disembodied voice. "Uh, okay." He grabbed at the floating phone.

Mister criminal had managed to get most of the webbing off of his hand and was making a second attempt for the pistol that sat just outside of his reach.

Spider-Woman pushed her foot down onto his hand.

He felt something snap in his wrist. "Oh God no!" He yelled in pain.

"I suggest you take it easy until the cops arrive." The bodiless voice spoke. She could feel his heart blasting in his chest; she could sense his panic. Spider-Woman used more of her webbing to tightly secure the man to the ground. The police were going to have to cut him out of that webbing if they wanted to make an arrest.

The two customers laying on the floor got up to thank the invisible woman. "Thank you, Spider-Woman," said the one elderly lady as she stared at nothing.

"No problem." But at this point, Spider-Woman had been invisible for much longer than intended. I better get out, she thought to herself. However, Spider-Woman didn't leave until she got exactly what she came for.

The cops arrived and no one noticed the door to one of the coolers open. And no one noticed the two bottles of white wine suddenly vanish. Now this certainly did feel like payment for her services.

It was around 7 pm when Gwen arrived back at home. Band rehearsal was at 7:30 pm and MJ would be upset if Gwen showed up late, or not at all. Before climbing up the side of the building and back through her bedroom window, she did a double-take. It didn't look like anyone was watching, but when she arrived at her window sill she realized that her spider-sense had let her down.

Not so conveniently, May was in Gwen's bedroom staring directly at the window. "Gwen?" A look of surprise crossed May's face. "What are you doing sneaking into your own bedroom?"

Gwen sighed as she stepped through the open window cradling two bottles of wine in one arm.

"I see." May snickered at the sight. "Didn't want your dad to know?"

Placing the bottles down on her desk, Gwen rolled her eyes at May. "What are you doing in my bedroom?"

May was shocked by Gwen's comment. "I was looking for you. Your father said you were up here preparing for your internship. When you didn't answer the door I got worried."

"You figure that as a grown woman, I could have my own privacy." Gwen showed signs of exasperation. "But instead, my step-mom goes through my shit."

"I wasn't going through you 'shit', Gwen," May said this while making air quotes. "I was just worried, that's all."

"Ah," Gwen exhaled, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get annoyed at you."

"That's fine." May smiled pleasantly. "It's good to know you're alright."

"Look, May," Gwen scraped at the top of her head, "please don't say anything to dad about this."

May held up her hand. "I promise your secret is safe with me."

Gwen glanced at her phone and noticed it was already past 7 pm. "I'm sorry, May. I really need to go."

She grabbed her black jacket from the foot of her bed, but before she could leave her room, May interrupted the girl. "Wait," she said. "Don't forget that I'm always here for you. If you don't want to talk to your dad, you can always talk to me."

Gwen flashed May a smile before leaving. What a strange, strange girl, May thought to herself.


	5. Chapter 5: Night Life

Nightmares come in many different shapes and sizes. Most of the dreams we have are meaningless dribble that supports no consequence, but some represent who we are. Our subconscious mind holds our fears, our hopes, and our loves. In those moments of deep sleep and wild imaginings, our true selves are revealed. You can hide your dreams and nightmares from the rest of the Universe, but you can't hide them from yourself. Eventually, you're going to have to face them in reality.

MJ was angry, she was frustrated, she was downright pissed off. Gwen showed up to rehearsals for the first time in the past couple of weeks, but the woman was on another fucking planet. Mary Jane considered Gwen Stacy to be her best friend, her closest friend. She knew Gwen wasn't interested in going big-time despite her god-like talents on the drums, but that didn't make MJ feel any better. In fact, that made MJ feel even worse about the situation.

"Earth to Gwen." MJ slapped a hand down on one of Gwen's cymbals.

Gwen frowned in response. "What is it, MJ?"

MJ flared out her arms and glanced over at her other band members. "It's like you're on a different fucking planet, Gwen. Are you even listening to what we're playing right now?"

The other members of the Mary Janes, Glory Grant and Betty Brant, silently watched MJ as she fumed at Gwen.

"I really am trying, MJ." Gwen stifled her anger. "It's been a while; I'll get into it."

Glory spoke up, "Chill Em. We'll get back into it."

"Alright," MJ threw her hands behind her head, "Let's take a five-minute break."

Glory and Betty shrugged in agreement.

Gwen continued to sit at her kit blankly looking off into the distance at nothing in particular.

"Can we talk outside?" Mary Jane asked after observing her friend's solemn attitude.

"Yeah," Gwen woke herself up.

The two women exited out of the back of the auditorium and into the empty parking lot.

MJ wasn't sure where to start. They had an argument yesterday and she wasn't in the mood for a second, but Gwen was beginning to upset MJ. She hated being upset with Gwen, but it hadn't felt the two of them were good friends for the past two weeks. Let alone best friends.

"Yeah?" Gwen spoke passively.

"Wha- What's gotten into you, Gwen?" MJ suppressed her rage. "You haven't been yourself lately."

Buried it deep; rotting from the inside out. Was it finally starting to happen? She had no answers for Mary Jane.

"You think that, that we're just growing apart now?" MJ worried that the day would come. "Maybe because you're older and wiser than I am, you don't see the kind of future I see for myself."

"Honestly, MJ?" Gwen held a steady tone. "Are you trying to insult me?"

MJ would be lying if she said no. "You're just on a different level than the rest of us and you change more every day. It's like you're too good for us."

"No," Gwen could feel herself gritting her teeth. "I do live on planet Earth, Mary Jane. I live in the real world. Your band and your dreams of becoming famous are just that. They're dreams."

"I can't believe it." MJ wanted to cry, but she also wanted to scream at Gwen. "I can't believe you would say that after all this time."

"Fact is, MJ, you're selfish, you're a very selfish person." Gwen could feel a headache worming its way into her skull. "You've just always been incredibly self-absorbed, but I've always just let it go. I let it go because you were Peter's girlfriend, and then I let it go because you lost him. And if those events hadn't existed, I probably wouldn't be your friend at all."

Tears formed in MJ's eyes. "Are you serious? Gwen, how… How could you say that? Why, what are you doing? Are you trying to hurt me?"

Gwen could feel her heart pounding in her chest; she could feel her head pounding. "You're so used to getting what you want all the time. You're so used to being beautiful and everyone wishes they were either you or with you. You, you act like you know what it's like to struggle, but you've never had to."

"I think I'm going to be sick." MJ covered her mouth as tears poured down her red cheeks.

Gwen's head felt like it was going to explode. The pain was almost unbearable. The world around her morphed into an aura of bright lights and fuzzy sounds.

"Ahhh…" Gwen fell to the pavement on her hands and knees.

"Gwen?!" Mary Jane crouched to the ground and held onto Gwen's shoulders. "Are you alright?"

"Ah, it's ah, headache." Gwen squeezed her eyes tightly shut.

Mary Jane wrapped her arms around Gwen and sat next to her. "I think you have a migraine, Gwen. Do you have your stuff with you?"

"No, it's," Gwen tried to steady her dizziness, "I left it at home. I always leave it at home."

"You should lie down somewhere." MJ strained to get Gwen back on her feet. "Lay down and I'll get you some Advil or something; it'll help."

At this point, Gwen didn't hear a word of what MJ had to say. Gwen was mostly blind and just hoped that MJ would guide her in the right direction. Before she realized it, she was lying down. One more moment and she passed out.

There was the lizard man and it was cold, and it was wet, and it was dark. The rain was trapped in time; held perfectly still before hitting the ground. She was hurt real bad; it was real bad. She gazed down at her hands as she slowly turned them over. Everything was moving slowly. Her hands were covered in her own blood. Her stomach felt warm. When she stared down at it, she saw that she was coated in her own blood. She felt the warm streams of blood gushing from her stomach and down her legs.

The Lizard smiled. It was an endless smile filled with teeth and black tar. His clawed hands dripped with the Spider-Woman's blood. This Lizard wasn't Peter Parker; this Lizard was a different man.

"You're damned, girl." His voice croaked at her. "You were damned to death the moment you decided to come after us. You've forgotten how small of a child you are; how weak you are."

It was a rooftop; they were on a rooftop, but she couldn't see any other buildings below or above them. The world was surrounded in infinite fog and sky. She leaned into a wall behind her and allowed herself to sink to the ground. She had no will left in her. She knew she was going to die on that rooftop. This was the end for Spider-Woman.

"How I've waited for this day." A thunderous clap struck the moment he laughed up to the sky in madness. "Oh, I look forward to crushing you, you tiny bug."

He sauntered over to her limp body and knelt down in front of her. His frightening grin beamed with black teeth. His mouth was an endless abyss of horrors. He leisurely reached his slimy hands towards her neck then enfolded his pointed fingers around her.

Couldn't even wait to let me bleed out or for something more dramatic like slashing my face up, she thought to herself. This was it; he was going to strangle her to death. But strange things happen in very strange times.

She was going to let him win; she was ready to give up, but something peculiar happened. Suddenly, she could smell atmosphere around her. Her hands tingled like they had just gone numb. She figured that this is what it was like to die, but that wasn't it. The Lizard was electrocuted.

He screamed in horror; his arms fell away from her; he tumbled to the ground. He was dead, but she was alive. His body turned to dust and with another clap of thunder, the rain began to pour. Time had commenced for her. Gwen woke up from her dream.

The first thing that Gwen did when she woke up was immediately puke all over the floor next to her. MJ had dragged Gwen's sorry ass into the auditorium's backstage. There was a lounge area behind the stage where performers could relax before and after a show. So now the plush shag carpet that made its home next to couch that Gwen was laying on, was covered in the aftermath of a poorly made meal.

Glory bolted up from the chair adjacent to the couch. "Fucking gross."

Mary Jane had been standing over Gwen's sleeping body with an expression of great concern plastered on her face. "Shut up, Glory. Go get a bucket or something, help me clean this up!"

Betty nodded at Mary Jane. "That carpet is toast. We should just get rid of it."

"That's enough," Gwen spoke up as she jammed her fingertips against the ridge of her brow.

Mary Jane stepped over the pile of vomit and sat next to Gwen. "Are you okay?"

"Not really." Gwen pushed herself into an upright position. "How long was I out?"

Betty stepped forward. "Like two hours. We were about to call 911, but MJ said it was a bad idea."

MJ looked up at Betty. "Gwen's had migraines before; they never kill her. I knew she'd be alright."

Gwen's mouth opened. "The Lizard man," she whispered to herself.

"Lizard man?" MJ repeated back.

"I'm fuh- I uh, should probably just go home at this point." Gwen's head still ached, but it was nothing like before.

"I'll give you a lift home." Mary Jane helped Gwen onto her feet.

"You don't-" Gwen caught the concern on MJ's face, "-you don't have to do that, MJ."

"I'm not letting you walk home." MJ continued to hold Gwen by her side.

"Okay, okay." Gwen relented.

The walk to the car and the drive back to Gwen's house was thick with awkward silence. It wasn't until they arrived at Gwen's did MJ feel compelled to speak up. "Maybe… Maybe you should quit the band."

"Yeah," Gwen drowsily nodded. "You're right. You're right most of the time."

"Don't do it because I told you to do it." Mary Jane refused to look at Gwen. "Make the choices that are good for you, Gwen. You've spent- you've spent a lot of time being there for me; being there for other people. You really should, you know, take care of yourself."

"I've become the worst friend in the world." Gwen choked on her words. "You're too precious and wonderful to deserve a friend like me. I've made, I've made mistakes, MJ."

MJ wanted to cry too, but she restrained herself. "If you don't talk to somebody; if you don't do anything, things get worse. You've kept your cool through everything the world has thrown at you and I think it's finally taken its toll."

"You are… Always right…" Gwen shifted her eyes to catch of glimpse of Mary Jane in the driver's seat. "I don't want to have to remember everything… I just, I just want it to go away."

"I, uh-" A minuscule whimper left MJ's mouth, "-I don't want you to think… I don't- uh… Don't do anything to hurt yourself, Gwen. It's not the answer; it's not the right answer."

"MJ…" Gwen forced herself to look at her best friend. "I don't plan on going anywhere. I'll always be around. Or you know, I'll try to be."

A smile crept across MJ's face. "Can you promise me that you'll take care of yourself? And I promise you that I'll take care of myself."

"Yeah," Gwen's frown of sadness grew deeper. "I can promise… That I'll try. I want to get better, MJ."

"I want to get better." MJ smiled even more, but its sincerity was missing. "I won't make you talk to me about whatever it is your going through, but you need to talk to someone."

"Oh my god," Gwen couldn't help but let out a short laugh. "You're probably the third person to tell me that today."

"You need to relax and enjoy life, Gwen. You need to embrace something. You need to give life a chance."

"I did always envy how you were really good at doing that." Gwen had misled herself into believing that she was the emotionally stronger willed of the two. But while MJ was attempting to make the best of life, Gwen was desperately grasping at straws.

MJ placed a gentle hand on Gwen's shoulder. "You should see that doctor again."

"I couldn't stand Dr. Sofen," Gwen vigorously shook her head, "she was always- something always seemed so wrong about her."

"Ugh," MJ sighed.

"What? It's true." Gwen glowered.

"No, you dumb dumb." MJ chuckled. "I'm talking about Dr. Strange."

"Gah, fuck, jeez, MJ." Gwen rolled her head back. "I feel like we're going in circles here."

"You don't like him?" Mary Jane enjoyed Gwen's absurd reaction. "Damn Gwen, a guy like that interested in you-"

"-Knock it off." But Gwen's voice carried a slight tone of laughter in it. "You want his number? I mean, I don't even have it, but I'll get it for you."

"Really? You'd do that?" MJ replied sarcastically. "That is so nice of you, Gwen. You won't mind, right?"

"I want to say that I'm never going to see him again, but I have the strangest feeling…" She emphasized the word strangest.

"Wow, joking again?" grinned MJ. "That's good. But in all seriousness, what do you have to lose?"

"My mind, probably?"

"Let's be honest." The grin melted away from MJ's face. "If you don't like this guy, tell him to fuck off and leave you alone the next time you see him. Unless you do like him and your pretending not to."

Gwen puckered her lips and sighed. "Ugh, that's not it. I like him. He's a perfectly fine person, maybe, I think."

"Are you nervous?"

"Nervous?" Gwen scrunched her arms over her chest. "Why would I be nervous?"

"Because I'm your best friend and I know you've never dated a guy before. So, understandably there's a lot to be afraid of. It takes a bunch out of your life, you know both time and emotion, to commit something to… to another person."

"I've never imagined myself in a relationship with another person, let alone someone like him." This was mostly a lie. For a moment in time, she imagined what her life would have been like had she got to be with Peter. The thought had made her feel sick and guilty. All of those thoughts were a betrayal towards Mary Jane.

"You can always dump his ass and say no. End of story." Mary Jane had been in enough relationships to know a thing or two about men. "I bet you could totally kick his ass if you wanted to. I bet he has no idea how freakishly strong you are."

"Okay, okay," Gwen raised a hand at MJ, "that's enough for today. I should- I should go to bed."

"Are you feeling better?" Mary Jane asked one last time.

"I am now." Gwen reached over and gave her friend a sturdy hug. "I am going to take a break from the band and just take it easy for a while."

"I- I totally get that." Mary Jane agreed. "You do what you need to help yourself, Gwen."

Gwen stepped out of the passenger side door and onto the sidewalk, but before MJ left she rolled down her window. "Hey, Gwen?" She called.

Gwen twisted around to smile at her friend. "What is it?"

"Say hi to Dr. Strange for me." MJ was in hysterics over her own joke as she sped off and away from Gwen.

"Sure," Gwen rolled her eyes at no one. "Will do."

It had been another late night for Gwen Stacy, but the day wasn't over yet. She still hadn't used the lock breaker on the Miller Twin's device. As well, she wanted to pay Detective Lee a visit to inquire about the previous night. She wasn't expecting Terry to provide her with any new information, but she needed to know the fate of those scum boys.

Before jumping out her bedroom window adorned in her Spider-Woman disguise, she plugged the Miller Twin's phone into the lock breaking device. "See you later." She gave the little device a masked kiss. "Don't stay up too late."

The best thing about being Spider-Woman was that you got to be Spider-Woman. It would be a lie to say that Gwen didn't enjoy donning her Spider-Woman costume and web-slinging through the vibrant New York streets. Nighttime in New York City was her favorite time of day. It was at night when you saw the charm of New York City burst through the crowds of people. Not to mention, web-slinging was a total thrill. It was like a roller-coaster ride that you had complete control over.

When Spider-Woman found the detective, he was happily sitting in his one-bedroom apartment in nothing but his underwear. She had to admit that he was a fine-looking man, but that was here nor there. Mostly she was looking forward to how embarrassed his expression would be when she knocked on his living room window.

Knock, knock; she tapped on the glass. If only he could have seen the stupid grin pasted on her face as she watched him spring off his couch in panic.

"Jesus, Spi!" His voice was muted by the window, but she still caught what he said.

She knocked again. He scrambled to put on some pants as he made his way to the window. The window wasn't actually locked, so she just opened it herself. She then proceeded to step into his apartment completely uninvited.

"Enjoying the night off?" She jested.

"I was." He found a spare t-shirt lying on the ground and put it on. "You know breaking and entering is illegal, right?"

"Mhm," Spider-Woman nodded while glancing around his humble abode. "You really need to clean the place up."

"It's my place; I do what I want." This wasn't the first time Spi invited herself into his apartment unannounced. "You have my number. You could have at least called; you know?"

"Ha," she let out a fake laugh. "I'm trying to keep you on your toes, detective."

He grabbed a sweater from the armrest on his couch and pulled it over his head. "What do you want, Spi?"

"The Miller Twins, duh." Again, if he could see her face, he would see her annoyance. "What's the deal?"

"They pled guilty to murder; they'll be charged and prosecuted." He aimed his index finger at her. "End of the story."

"Yeah, I get it, we already argued about that." She waved him off.

"Did you get anything from that phone you found?" He was curious.

"Working on it." She started poking at an aloe plant sitting on the edge of his window sill. "Have my best guy on it as we speak."

"You have a guy?" He picked up the plant to move it away from her.

She walked away from his living room window. "Well, by guy I mean a piece of technology that can break locks on phones."

"That certainly is illegal." He gingerly placed the little aloe plant back down.

"Well," she shrugged before leaning against a wall, "I'm not a cop; arrest me if you want."

He pulled a chair out from his practically non-existent dining area and placed it next to a desk beside the living room window. "I do have something that might interest you." He opened up his laptop.

"Really?" She slunk over to him. "Is it a bunny rabbit?"

"Better." He paid no regard to her sarcasm. "Last night there was a murder or rather, there was a mauling."

"Which one?"

"What went on record was that a woman in her mid-thirties was mauled to death by a wild animal." He navigated to a file on his computer. "But I saw the body. And unless she got mauled by a dog the size of Big Foot, that ain't like any mauling I've ever seen."

"Why use a dog the size of Big Foot as an analogy?" she questioned. "Why not say grizzly bear instead? Is a grizzly bear in New York that less believable than a dog the size of Big Foot?"

"My analogy isn't even the point, Spi." He raised his voice at her. "My point is, is that there aren't any animals native to the surrounding area that could have done this to a person."

"Maybe a lion escaped from the zoo?"

"Already looked into that." He replied. "This isn't the first time this has happened in New York."

"Hmm." That statement caught her attention. "Do you think there's a monster prowling around New York City, murdering people?"

"In fact," he turned his laptop so she could catch a glimpse of what was on the screen, "I do."

It was difficult to describe what exactly was in the photo he showed her, but it certainly seemed familiar. A CCTV camera managed to briefly capture a shadowed figure of large proportions. It was clearly a bipedal creature, but it was twice the size of an average New Yorker.

"That's it?" Spider-Woman pointed to the screen.

"This came from a street camera about five blocks from the scene, but yeah, that's it." He responded. "Does it seem familiar to you?"

She pushed her face closer to the screen. "Should it?" she asked as she studied the image.

"I think this is related to Peter Parker's murder, Spi." He turned the laptop back to himself.

"What?" Spider-Woman straightened out her posture. "I see…" She thought for a moment in silence. "That picture… It resembles the lizard man that Peter Parker had changed in to."

"That's what I thought you'd say."

She stepped behind him and peered closely down over his shoulder. "This lizard man here? You think he murdered that woman?"

When Spider-Woman leaned over Lee, he felt a chill move down his spine. He was hyper-aware of how close she was to him. She was a dangerous soul, but she also smelled like a sweet field of flowers and grass. He found confliction in his feelings towards her.

He cleared his throat. "Yeah, exactly."

"You said this happened before?" She moved away from his desk and he let out a sigh of relief.

"Yeah." He watched her move back to the living room window. "About a year ago there was a similar incident. I saw that body; it had all the same markings on it as this one did."

"But this lizard wasn't Peter Parker." Spider-Woman stared out the window. She heard laughter down in the alley below. Lee's apartment was too far up from the main floor for her to see anything. No matter the day and no matter the time, people of New York loved to party.

"That's obvious." He agreed. "But Peter Parker; on that night… On that night a year ago when he died, he'd also murdered somebody."

She jutted her head at him. "How do you even know that?"

"Evidence."

"Evidence?" She repeated back at him. "Care to explain what that means?"

"Peter Parker had someone else's blood on him when he died. The assumption had always been that it was your blood. You refused to get your DNA tested and it didn't match anything in our system, so… And you should thank me for that because if I had told anyone that I suspected it was your blood-"

"-I get it, thanks" She interrupted him. "That doesn't prove that Peter did it. There could have been two lizards out there this entire time."

"I'm a detective, Spi." He got up from his desk. "I exhumed the body of the woman who died a year ago. Her DNA matched the DNA that was found on Peter Parker."

Before Peter Parker as the Lizard and Gwen Stacy as Spider-Woman had their battle to the death, he had called her. He was weeping and he didn't sound like himself. He kept repeating over and over to Gwen that he had made a mistake. Up until now, she assumed it was because he had turned into the Lizard not because he was a murderer.


	6. Chapter 6: One and Only

Loneliness can be the worst feeling. This place that we live in is full of people and our interactions with them. Being imprisoned in solitude is considered to be a punishment. Human beings spend a great deal of time focusing on their relationship with others. Loneliness is so unbearable that we will make the decision to position ourselves in distressing scenarios because we find the alternative to be more painful. We'd rather suffer at the hands of someone else than suffer in our personal loneliness.

He wasn't finished talking to Spider-Woman, but she was done with him. "Is there something you'd like to add?" Lee asked her.

She raised the window pane and sat down on its frame. "Do you think there's something I should add?"

"Our relationship here," he gestured at himself with both hands, "is one of trust, or that's what you've led me to believe. I'll be honest with you and you'll be honest with me."

Spider-Woman folded her arms over her chest. "There's a big difference between you and me though, isn't there?"

"You're an asshole?" He quickly chimed.

"Funny," she continued, "but what I'm getting at is that I wear a mask. You don't."

"I also don't make a habit of breaking the law." He added.

"This furthers my point. I can't tell you anything if it also risks compromising my identity."

"You think I'd tell someone?" Even if he did know, he wouldn't say anything. Knowing who she was wouldn't make a whole lot of difference to him. Being a cop meant that you didn't have the privilege of anonymity. Wearing a PD badge indicated that you'd be held responsible for your actions, at least that's what it was supposed to mean. Wearing a mask meant less responsibility, but it also kept you safe.

"You're probably thinking to yourself that you have no intentions of telling anyone and you're probably sincere about that." She peered her head out the window and stared down the endless New York alley crowded with compact apartments. It was like a beehive or ant colony. "However, sooner or later, you're going to tell someone. Even if you didn't intend to."

"Who you are under the mask doesn't matter to me or anyone at that. People will always remember you for your actions."

"Wow," Spider-Woman snickered. "How wise of you Gandalf."

"I know you're a good person even if you are an asshole." He approached the window frame she sat on.

"Are you going to go looking for this guy?" She wondered about this other Lizard.

"Not on paper." He shrugged and sat next to her on the frame. "This is a closed case as far as anyone is concerned. It was an animal mauling, end of story. Animal Control will be keeping an eye out for deadly animals lurking through the streets, but that's about it."

"If this happens again, and if this keeps happening…" She paused to examine the detective's calm demeanor. "People are going to start wondering what's really going on. Whoever this person is, we need to find him."

"We?" Lee smirked.

Spider-Woman gracefully slipped backward out of the window and planted her feet on the fire escape. "You're the Watson to my Sherlock."

"I'm the actual detective here." He pivoted to see her outside the window. "So shouldn't I be Sherlock?"

"No." She raised her arms. "Sherlock was a consulting detective; he wasn't actually a cop. Also, Sherlock was the cool one and I am one-hundred percent cooler than you."

He stood up and reached the top of the window. "I'll let you know if I find anything else and you let me know if you find anything. And from now on, I'm keeping this window locked."

"FYI," she sprang on the fire escape's railing, "it was locked the first time I broke into your apartment."

"Then I'm installing an alarm."

"FYI," she launched a web into the distance, "I know how to override those."

"Please don't break into my apartment again!" He yelled at her as she swung off into the alley.

The Lizard man. Where did he come from and what was he? Lee had found an unidentifiable substance in Peter Parker's body when he was investigating Spider-Woman's supposed first homicide. It was barely anything to go on, but it was enough to get Spider-Woman off the hook for Peter's murder. As soon as he discovered this, the case was closed, he was dismissed from further investigation, and all of the case evidence disappeared. If he still had Peter Parker's blood and was allowed more time for lab tests, maybe Lee could have gotten somewhere.

This wasn't the first time a case had been mysteriously closed at the NYPD. It happened a lot to the detective even before he was a detective. Seemingly overnight, cases would be forgotten. The biggest problem was that no one seemed to care, or if they did, they weren't willing to talk about it. From what Lee could tell, over half of the police force in the NYPD were active members of Hydra. Detective Terry Lee was not a fan of Hydra philosophies.

Hydra had a penchant for being discriminatory towards minorities. Lee, being a minority himself, was often shunned by the less friendly members of Hydra who were on the force. Spider-Woman was right about the human trafficking happening throughout the streets of New York City. He'd have half a mind to do something about it himself if he was able to legally. Hydra wasn't making things any easier for people like Lee and they certainly were only going to continue to make things worse.

He put a lot of personal hope and faith in Spider-Woman. Sure, she was jaded and rude at best of times, but seeing what she did and all the people she helped… Well, Lee wished there were more heroes out in the world like her. He prayed for her living soul every day. All he would hope for is that she continued to make New York a safer place.

It was almost four in the morning when Gwen returned home. She climbed up the side of her father's house and to her bedroom window. To her dismay, the window was locked.

"For crying out loud, May," she murmured to herself. "I'm dressed as Spider-Woman, I don't have my keys, and my bedroom window is locked…"

The problem with Lee's apartment was that it was old and the windows were old and the locks on them were garbage. All Gwen had to do to break into his place was wiggle the window itself long enough before it lifted out of the lock. Without breaking the lock on her own window as she forced it open, there was no other way in. She annoyed herself thinking about having to explain the broken lock to May.

"I don't have time for this BS." Gwen applied pressure to the window, forcing it open. The lock, which held the window closed, rather inconveniently rocketed off the frame and smashed into one of the bottles of wine sitting on her desk.

Gwen panicked as she jumped through the open window. "Fuck off!" she whimpered to herself.

She lifted her laptop and the lock breaking device off of her desk and tossed them onto her bed. It was at this fortunate moment that someone decided to open Gwen's bedroom door. And who was it, you wonder, but you don't because you already knew it was May.

"My life is a joke," Gwen whispered as May fully opened the bedroom door.

"Gwen?!" May jumped into Gwen's bedroom and shut the door behind her. "Are you okay? I thought I heard something."

Gwen, who was still fully clad in her Spider disguise, was left speechless.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude." An expression of guilt grew on May's face. "I heard glass smashing and thought someone was trying to break in."

"I did break in, May!" Gwen pointed at the window. "My goddamn bedroom window was locked."

"It started getting windy out and I could hear your door slamming in its frame, so I had to do something."

"It's the only way I get in and out of my bedroom at night," Gwen groaned. "You didn't have to lock it."

"Lucky for you your dad wasn't home, huh?" May smiled.

"Lucky?" Gwen peered down at her costume. "My step-mom just found me breaking into my own bedroom wearing a Spider-Woman outfit."

"Gwen," May turned on Gwen's bedroom lights, "I've seen you climb into that bedroom window on more than one occasion. There's nothing below that window, so unless you've secretly been an Olympic athlete the entire time I've known you, this explains a lot."

Gwen pulled her mask off and sighed at May. "You're not going to tell dad, are you?"

"What sucks for you," May made her way to the shattered bottle, "is that your dad doesn't like Spider-Woman."

"I'm aware," Gwen huffed as she pulled the rest of her costume off.

"But I don't agree with your father. I think Spider-Woman is an amazing person." May swept up the little trashcan that sat next to Gwen's desk and started picking at the shards of glass on the floor.

"May, what the hell?" Gwen reached out with her hand to stop May and webbed the raining glass that was scattered across the floor. She then picked the web up, crumpled it into a ball, and tossed it in the trashcan.

"How convenient!" May beamed with delight. "Why aren't you doing more cleaning around this place?"

"I'm sure dad would be thrilled to watch me dust ceilings fans and wipe down the skylight," Gwen added jokingly.

"That skylight is filthy." May stuck her index finger at the girl. "I have to hire a guy every time I want it cleaned."

"Jesus, what a fucking mess." Gwen gazed down at the sad puddle of wine.

May turned to rummage through Gwen's closet in search of a towel. "You should really clean that up. It's starting to smell in here and only God knows what your father is going to think about that."

Gwen used her webbing to snatch a towel from the top of the closet. "Dad doesn't barge into my room unannounced, so I wasn't concerned."

May offered Gwen a twisted expression with gritted teeth. "I'm sorry, Gwen. Have I made you feel awkward?"

"Have I made you feel awkward?" Gwen lowered her chin. "Or have you forgotten that I was accused of murdering Peter Parker?"

"Oh, Gwen…" May frowned with sympathy for the girl. "I know you didn't hurt Peter. Not for a second did I think Spider-Woman was capable of murder. I knew it had to be a misunderstanding."

There was so much more to that day that Gwen didn't want to mention to May. "Dad doesn't see it the same way, does he?"

"Gwen, hun," May put her palm on the girl's soft cheek, "you can't go around worrying about what people think of you. Your father… Your father is an old fashioned cop right to his bones. It might take time, but Spider-Woman will grow on him."

"You're the only person who knows I'm Spider-Woman." Gwen diverted from the subject of her father.

"Oh," May seemed stunned. "You didn't even mention it to Mary Jane? Or Pete?"

"Peter knew, but…" Gwen tried to keep a neutral expression. "But he's gone, so no one knows but you."

May rubbed at the side of her own face in confusion. "How'd you get your powers?" May probed.

"Well, I, uh…" Gwen had never told anyone how exactly she came across her powers. She mentioned to Detective Lee that it was through exposure to radiation, but she didn't say how she was exposed.

"I won't force you to talk about it." May relented.

"Uh, good…" Gwen exhaled deeply. "Because I don't really want to talk about it."

May dipped her head at Gwen. "Did you tell Dr. Sofen about how you got your powers?"

"No, no," Gwen shook her head. "I- I didn't even tell Peter how I got them."

"Do you not know how you got your powers?'

"Oh, I know." Gwen knew exactly what had transpired; she knew exactly how she became so 'gifted'. "I don't want to talk about it."

"I'm always here to listen when you're ready." May offered a simple and sincere smile to Gwen.

"Mhmm." Gwen knelt to the floor and began mopping up the wine spill with her towel. "I'm going to get some rest before work in the morning."

"Oh, of course." May scampered over to the closed door. "I'll try to be better about coming into your bedroom unannounced. You know, in case you ever have anyone over. I realize I'm very rude."

"May!" Gwen whined. "Just get the fuck out."

"Okay, okay," May chuckled. "Have a good sleep. Love you!"

"Of course," Gwen muttered to herself as May made her escape.

In the interim, Gwen knew May wouldn't say anything to her dad. What worried Gwen was the day that May felt compelled to say something about it to George. Spider-Woman led a thrilling life and with the Lizard out in public murdering innocent bystanders, her life was about to get much more complicated. May was a kind and loving person; she gave all of herself to the world. Question is, what is May going to think when she sees her step-daughter fighting toe-to-toe with a giant, blood-thirsty lizard man?

May observed her lovely step-daughter Gwen Stacy walk down the stairs out of her bedroom and into the foyer. Gwen was dressed to the nines in a white blouse and grey plaid, pencil skirt. She had gained the air of business professional overnight. These observations discounted the emotionless expression on Gwen's face.

"You look so adorable!" May ran up to Gwen as she approached the bottom of the stairs. "You look like a serious businesswoman. I've never seen you dressed like this before."

"Thanks, May." Gwen was embarrassed by May's kind compliments.

"And your make-up is awesome." May studied Gwen as if the girl was a statue on display at a museum.

"Oscorp is a very professional company."

"You're totally taking this seriously?" May admired the girl. "I'm so glad to see that."

"I want a career someday, not at Oscorp, but…" Gwen shrugged. "Being Spider-Woman is great, but it doesn't pay the bills."

"You really are something else, huh?" This was intended as a rhetorical question on May's part. "Are you free tonight?"

"Why? You asking me out on a date?" Gwen quipped.

"Oh, I wish, honey." May couldn't keep her ridiculous grin away. "What I was hoping was that you'd be free to come down to the shelter tonight to give me a hand. We got this huge delivery of shelving units for the stock room, but none of it is assembled."

"You're asking me," Gwen gestured to herself with a pointed hand, "the one and only Spider-Woman, to help install some shelving in a storage unit?"

"I'm sorry," May folder her hands over her hips, "are you too good for the rest of the world?"

"Oh, May, I was joking," Gwen explained. "Yes, I am free tonight and yes I will be happy to help you."

"It won't be me you're helping. I'll be busy planning the charity event for the Patrolmen's Benevolent Association."

"It's just me then?"

"Hmm, maybe?" May wasn't sure. "There should be another volunteer there tonight."

"Can't really use my Spider powers, can I then?" Gwen commented.

"Oh, yeah…" It appeared that May was deep in thought. "I hadn't thought about that until now. I'm sure it'll be fine."

Gwen patted down her blouse and stared at her atypical outfit. "I'll bring a change of clothes with me and head straight there after work."

"You are my angel." May instilled Gwen's forehead with a loving kiss.

"Jeez," she swatted at May. "Don't treat me like I'm thirteen," Gwen laughed. "And you're going to ruin my make-up. Thanks for making this an incredibly awkward morning for me."

"I'm just proud of you, Gwen." May took a step back and beamed at Gwen. "I'm proud of you for being Spider-Woman, I'm proud of you for getting this job, and I'm proud of you for helping me out."

"Don't make me sound like a better person than I am, May." She didn't feel like she had earned any of May's praises. But May loved Gwen like a mother loved her daughter. Gwen could have used her powers for villainy and May still would have something nice to say about her.

"Good luck at your job."

"One more thing," Gwen raised her finger. "Is there going to be food because you know I like food."

"I'll make sure there's enough food there to feed a family of five." May chuckled.

"That's what I like to hear." Gwen literally leapt out of the foyer and up the stairs to get to her bedroom.

She rifled through her closet for a bigger bag and an extra set of clothing. Her Spider-Woman outfit lied in a crumpled pile at the bottom of her closet. You wouldn't have considered it to be a thoughtful hiding spot for the costume. She wondered if it was worth bringing the Spider-Woman disguise along with her.

It was rare for Gwen to wear the Spider suit during the day. Spider-Woman stuck out like a sore thumb as it was and even more so during the day. Over time, Gwen also discovered that most crimes took place during the darkest hours of the day. This wasn't exclusive to all crime, but Gwen couldn't be in two places at once. A feeling of ultimate loneliness came with being the only superhero in the world.

In the end, she chose to leave the Sider-Woman costume behind. But what she didn't leave behind, was the untouched, yet to be enjoyed bottle of stolen wine.

Her job was boring; beyond boring; beyond being remotely interesting, but it was still a job at Oscorp. She sat in a tiny cubicle surrounded by other tiny cubicles full of other interns. The cubicles were lined up in a perfect grid and there was at least a total of fifty desks on the one floor. The job certainly was nothing to write home about, but again, it was a job at Oscorp which was arguably one of the biggest research and tech companies in the world. People went places when they worked at Oscorp. The best of the best worked at Oscorp.

By the time the workday was over, Gwen's ass and brain were numb. She wasn't going to complain; actually, she probably was, but she was just grateful to get the fuck away from that monotony. QA testing was not a glamorous job. Despite this, Gwen wasn't going to say no the experience. She had no plans on working at Oscorp long-term, though. She would work where she could and where she had to, but she had aspirations. Or well, that's what she liked to say to herself.

May had been at the shelter all day busy doing meal prep then organizing events when she had a spare second. The woman was a busy body for sure. Gwen had powers which allowed her to go pretty much non-stop every day, but May was just a normal human being.

Gwen tugged at her uncomfortable skirt accidentally glowering at May when she entered the shelter's industrial kitchen.

May grinned at Gwen with delight. "How's my little spider doing?"

Gwen's eyes went wide as she gaped at the other volunteer kitchen staff. "Uh, what?"

"How was your day?" May asked and nobody around acknowledged May's previous comment.

"Just fine." Gwen kept picking at her skirt. "Is there somewhere I can change? I need to get out of this ridiculous fucking thing."

"Out those doors and on the left," May said as she gestured to the right of Gwen.

Only fate would have it, Gwen's heart skipped a beat as she left the kitchen. Her heart didn't skip a beat because she was nervous or excited, but instead because she was in awe of her luck. Who else could it have been besides Dr. Strange who had the miraculous ability to materialize himself wherever Gwen went? It was as if the man was some kind of magician; a stalker magician.

He didn't notice Gwen Stacy because he wasn't looking for Gwen Stacy. At that moment he was thinking about her, though. More so, he was remembering Gwen Stacy's auburn-haired friend. He recalled seeing her from something or somewhere at some point in time. Was she a friend of a friend, he wondered, but that wasn't right. It was in the news; he recalled seeing Gwen Stacy's friend in the news.

When Gwen exited the lady's washroom after changing, she noticed that Stephen still stood in the same place talking to who knows. It was the first time Gwen had seen him wearing something more casual than a suit. He was adorning a dark brown sweater and a pair of jeans. He appeared more normal to her, but she surmised his outfit was probably more expensive than anything she's ever worn in her life.

Gwen crept back into the kitchen without catching Stephen's attention. May was still chopping up vegetables as she bolted around the huge stainless steel kitchen like a hamster on cocaine.

"May?" She managed to grab her step-mom's eye.

"You seem more comfortable now," May remarked on Gwen's simpler outfit of tight jeans and a baggy band t-shirt.

"The skirt looked nice, but I couldn't stand wearing the goddamned thing." Gwen briefly watched the rushing kitchen staff. "So, I have a quick question for you."

"Uh-huh," May started slicing more vegetables like a madwoman.

"The guy out there; brown sweater," Gwen gestured over her shoulder with her thumb. "Do you know him?"

"Yeah, he's great." May suddenly stopped moving. "Uh, what was his name? Right! Dr. Stephen Strange. He doesn't ever volunteer, but he likes to pretend to and show up to give us money."

"So he's here on a regular basis?" Gwen presumed.

"Yeah, once every couple weeks or so." May lifted her chin and raised an eyebrow at Gwen. "What's this about? He is a very handsome man, Gwen."

"I've met him before, that's all." Gwen shifted her eyes away from May's suspicious expression.

"Really?" May chimed with excitement. "How come you haven't mentioned this until now?"

"I met him two days ago, May." Gwen huffed.

"Oh, I know!" May lifted the knife in her hand. "You met him on Saturday when you went to the club with Mary Jane, right?"

Gwen couldn't help but bite the inside of her lip. "Yeah, I did. And somehow I also saw him yesterday and now he's here today."

"Wow, Gwen, it was meant to be." May broke out into a chopping frenzy.

"No. I don't think so." Gwen replied slowly.

"Do you not like him?" May ceased her cutting to ask. "Is there something wrong with him?"

"Uh," Gwen lifted her gaze and inhaled. "I wouldn't say I don't like him. I mean, he's a weird guy. I just, I talked to him at the club and I never thought I was going to see him again."

"Oh my god, Gwen," May froze in place. "Did you sleep with him?"

"Jeez, May." Gwen slumped forward. "No, I didn't fucking sleep with him."

May shuffled her body closer to Gwen to whisper in her ear, "Did you tell him you were Spider-Woman?"

"No, May," Gwen pushed her pseudo-mom away. "I told him that I accidentally killed my best friend's boyfriend. Are you happy now?"

"Gwen…" May furrowed her brow. "You didn't kill Peter; it wasn't your fault."

"It doesn't- it's," Gwen gasped for another breath. "it doesn't matter. I still told him and I regret saying anything."

With the knife still in hand, May gave Gwen a big hug. "It's okay to talk to someone, Gwen. You need to talk to someone about your feelings once in a while." She let go. "And if it's an attractive man who wants to hear your woes, even better. I bet he's got a nice, strong shoulder to cry on."

"Uh, buh…" Gwen needed a moment to collect her response. "You're just like Mary Jane."


	7. Chapter 7: The Sinking Ship

Some people in this world are too soft and pure for it. Humans are dark and dirty scumbags that litter the surface of this rock. Then there's a small collection of pristine creatures; they are the ones that are too good for the rest of us. They would never admit that they're better than the rest of us even though it's true. They would never leave us behind even when we deserved it. And all they get in return is us; the destroyers of this world.

Gwen always knew that May was amazing. She could see the veil of sadness that lurked in the woman's eyes after losing both her husband and nephew, but she was amazing nonetheless. For weeks after Peter's death, May was a shattered mess. She would stay in bed all day and cry and drink, but eventually, she moved on. Gwen didn't mourn Peter's death. She pushed the pain of losing him onto the pile of garbage buried inside herself. Every day, the stack got a little bit closer to the surface.

"Mary Jane is too kind to me; too forgiving. The way I act… Sometimes it's just…" Gwen didn't see how she deserved anyone's love. "How come you don't hate me?"

"Gwen…" May was confounded by Gwen's remark. "I was sad, I was angry, I hated everything, but I moved on. You grieve and you get better and you live. You keep living for the ones you've lost. But at no point did I hate Spider-Woman."

"You're also too kind to me," Gwen lowered her gaze. "It's more than I deserve."

"And you're too hard on yourself."

"Anyway, I uh," Gwen stuttered, "I'm here to help… With the shelving. I'll put, I'll put up the shelving."

May flashed Gwen a mischievous grin. "You know- I have an awesome idea."

"Okay?" Gwen perked up her head. "What is it?"

"Dr. Strange never lifts a finger around here, so get him to help you."

"That's your awesome idea?" She questioned her step-mom's rationale. "I was thinking I'd do it alone and things would go a lot quicker."

"Are you in a hurry?" May banged through some steel cupboards and pulled out a large metal pot.

"I'm, you know," Gwen swiveled her head around the room to ensure no one was eavesdropping on their conversation, "Spider-Woman. I do crime-fighting stuff; I fight crime; there's lots of crime in New York."

"I'm not going to let you use Spider-Woman as an excuse." May waved a free finger at her. "Get Dr. Strange to help you. Besides, it'll be good for both of you."

"Both of us?" Gwen doubted that.

"Dr. Strange likes to putt around here and do a whole lot of nothing." May started scrapping the chopped vegetables into the giant pot. "He thinks that just because he donates to us, he doesn't have to help out."

Gwen raised an open palm, "Why does he even stick around?"

"He clearly enjoys the attention. Many of the volunteers and staff here are grateful for his donations. And some of the younger girls certainly don't mind having him hang around here."

"Uh," Gwen squinted curiously at May. "You're not making it sound like he's someone I want to spend any time with."

"I know, I know, I know," She waved her hand at Gwen. "But forget all that. I know a good person when I see one and I know he is one. But someone like you, well someone like you can bring it out a bit more."

"Ha!" Gwen exclaimed. "People like to say I'm rude at the best of times."

"My point exactly." May slapped the heavy pot down on the counter. "You're not the kind of person to bend over for anyone and he's the kind of person who makes people bend over for him. When I say that out loud it sounds a lot dirtier… I don't mean physically, although I'm sure he doesn't have that problem-"

"-Mmaay," Gwen put an end to her step-mom's ridiculous rant. "Point," she waved her hand, "has been taken."

"The storage room is to the right of the bathrooms," May scuttled around the kitchen collecting more vegetables to cut, "and all of the shelves are just waiting for assembly and Dr. Strange is ten feet out this door. So go make the best of it and I'll see you later."

May tried to forcefully guide Gwen out of the kitchen, but the young woman was an unmovable stone.

"Just go," May flicked her wrists.

"Only because I like you." Gwen turned to the doors and peeked out one of the circular glass windows. "Here goes nothing," she sighed to herself.

With a stiff arm, Gwen pushed her way through the kitchen's double doors and moved over to Stephen.

"Doc," she spoke with a flat tone.

He pivoted on his heels to see the unimpressed Gwen Stacy standing in front of him. "What is your best friend's name?" He questioned her at random.

"Why?" Gwen scratched at her scalp.

"I'm consumed by this feeling of recognition," He pointed at Gwen. "I don't believe I know her, but I have seen her somewhere before."

"Mary Jane," was Gwen's disgruntled response, "Her name's Mary Jane."

It was as if someone turned a lightbulb on in the doctor's head. Yes, Mary Jane, he repeated to himself. He knew precisely who Mary Jane was.

"Don't recognize the name," he lied to Gwen. He had a suspicion about Gwen Stacy and he didn't want to reveal his cards too earlier in the case he was wrong.

"Okay." Gwen shrugged.

He gave her a few blinks. "Can I help you with something?"

Gwen changed her mind. She wasn't going to do it. He was a weirdo and… And the second Gwen contemplated abandoning the idea she could feel May's needle stare poking her in the back of the head. May's watching me, she thought. May was rarely satisfied until she got her way.

"I reluctantly ask you to help me." Gwen blurted out.

"When you put it that way, the answer is no." He responded bluntly.

"Awesome," Gwen felt a tinge of relief. "And I won't force you, so don't worry about it."

She smiled and nodded her head before turning around to see her lovely step-mother.

May's eyes shifted between the pair, "Gwendolyn needs help setting up our new storage shelves. The shelves are fairly large, so I know she could use the extra hand."

Strange lifted a brow at Gwen, "Gwendolyn?"

Gwen smiled at Stephen. "How often as a grown adult have you felt that you're being treated like a kid?"

"Even on her death bed, my mother treated me like a child."

Gwen glanced away from him, "That's a really awkward thing to say."

"It's true." He shifted his posture to face May. "I'll be happy to assist, but only because you asked, May."

May turned to scamper back into the kitchen, "Come find me if you need anything."

Stephen looked back at Gwen. "Shall we?" he gestured for her to go ahead of him.

When Gwen entered the storage area she saw that it was empty not including the unassembled shelves, a power drill, and a box of screws. The shelves consisted of large wooden planks that would be supported by metal brackets; this was some serious shelving. Gwen did think about how much faster and smoother putting them together on her own would have been. However, she was happy to have brought along a friend, and she wasn't referring to Stephen.

Gwen Stacy pulled a bottle of white wine from out of her backpack and showed Stephen a false smile. "Interested in any?"

He had to stop and enjoy the absurdity of the motion. "Do you have a glass?"

"No," Gwen slowly shook her head. "I was just going to drink it straight from the bottle like the class act I am."

"Alright," he grabbed the bottle from her. "Fuck class then." He examined the bottle and laughed to himself when he felt that it was warm and saw that it had no cork. "I love room temperature white wine."

"I don't buy it because it's good," she said despite not having purchased it. "I buy it because it has a high percentage."

"I see," he studied the bottle's label. "Twenty-eight percent? You're a serious drinker, I can see that."

"How's your friend with the broken hand?" She figured that was a polite question.

"Terrible," he let out a small laugh. "He was supposed to get married the next day."

"I'm guessing it didn't happen?"

"Somebody explained to his bride to be how he got the broken hand," Stephen twisted the cap off of the bottle. "And, as expected, she didn't appreciate his promiscuous behavior."

"Who told him the truth?" She asked.

"I did." He admitted and took a gulp from the wine bottle. "I felt it was the right thing to do."

"Hm," Gwen sniffled. "Doesn't make you a very good friend."

"No?" he handed the bottle to Gwen. "I was supposed to let his wife live a lie instead? That doesn't seem particularly fair, does it?"

"I was kidding." She drank a third of the bottle, to Stephen's surprise. "Your friend was an asshole."

"He is," Stephen sauntered to the unassembled shelving to examine its pieces. "And I would call him an acquaintance before I called him my friend. I would call him an annoyance before I called him an acquaintance."

"Do you even have real friends?" She recollected his blatant honesty when they first met.

"I would say you, but…" He bent over to pick up the wireless drill. "But you always act annoyed when I'm around."

"That's less you and more other people. But still maybe a bit you."

"So," he spun the drill in his hand, "you act annoyed when I'm around because other people force you to? That is quite the predicament."

"Now you're making me sound stupid." She took another long sip from the bottle, but not as long as her previous one. "For some annoying reason or another, my best friend and my mom feel that I should be in a relationship. They see no reason for me not to be, so they think I should go out with you."

"I've known you for three days." He accepted Gwen's pass when she offered him the bottle. "Is that long enough for two people to start dating? I suppose it might, given the circumstances."

"I'm not interested in being pressured into anything."

"I won't pressure you." He took a drink from the bottle one-handed. "I like you, Gwen. If you enjoy spending time with me as I do with you, we can continue to do so."

Gwen lifted a metal bracket up from the floor. "We should probably do what we're here to do."

"I wouldn't know where to start." He looked at the drill in his one hand and put down the wine bottle.

"Have you ever used a drill before?" she then crouched to grab the box of screws.

He turned the drill on and revved it a few times. "Not outside of the operating room, but I'm aware of their other functions."

"Is that what you spend your time doing as a doctor? Drilling patients?"

"Are you trying to be clever?" He revved the drill once more.

"No," Gwen pressed the metal frame into the corner of a wall. "I'm just wondering what kind of doctor you are exactly."

He reached for the box of screws in her hand, "I'm a surgeon; one of the greatest in the world if not the best. You'd have great difficulty finding someone more experienced and more competent than myself."

"You sort of mentioned that…" Gwen let him take the box and plucked a single screw from it. "You're not a very humble person, are you?"

"What am I doing?" He glanced at Gwen then back at the drill.

"Take this," Gwen let the magnet in the drill bit grab onto the screw she was holding. "Then drill it into the wall," she pointed at a hole in the bracket.

"I see." He understood. "Stabilize the brackets using the wall then add the shelves."

"You're a genius."

"And what do you do with your time, Gwen Stacy?" He knew she was going to school because she had mentioned it at the bar, but it was summer now, so it was most likely she had a job. There was something else, perhaps?

"I work at Oscorp until the summer is over, I do other stuff, and I uh… I help May when I can." Gwen's life didn't seem exciting when you didn't include the fact that she was Spider-Woman.

"Oscorp?" His head perked up. "I've done research for Oscorp in the past."

"What kind of research?" she stuck another screw to the end of the bit.

"I'm afraid I've signed a non-disclosure agreement pertaining to all of the research I did while working with Oscorp, so I won't be able to discuss it."

Gwen narrowed her eyes at him, "Why'd you even bring it up?"

"Because I'm trying to express an interest in you, but we both know that where you work is the least interesting fact about you."

"Did you have something in mind that you wanted to talk about?" She watched him drill the second screw into the bracket. This is going to take forever, Gwen thought.

"You told me you accidentally killed your best friend's boyfriend, whom you were in love with." He finished and turned his eyes to Gwen. "What happened? How did you accidentally kill him?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Gwen muttered.

"Okay," he put down the drill. "You were willing to tell me in the first place, so why change your mind now?"

"I shouldn't have said anything." She kept her body facing away from him.

"I knew I had recognized your friend from somewhere before, but I was having difficulty placing it." He went for the bottle of wine that still sat on the floor. "I can recall a picture of her from a news article I had read roughly one year ago. Do you know what I'm talking about?"

"No." Gwen was still facing the wall.

"It was about the sudden yet unexpected death of a young man named Peter Parker. In the article, it specified that he would be mourned by both his Aunt May and his loving girlfriend Mary Jane." He placed a hand on the back of Gwen's shoulder.

Gwen could feel her heart pounding and her eyes swelling. "I never read it."

"I remember what the article was called. The title read, 'Spider-Woman, A Murderer,' followed by a question mark."

Gwen flinched away from him. "What does that have to do with me?"

"Because I think you know who the Spider-Woman is." He took a swig from the bottle of wine as she turned to face him.

"How would I know that?" She felt anxiety swelling inside of her.

"You don't know?" He tried to hand her the bottle, but she refused. "I'd hate to accuse you of being a liar."

"Do you want something from me?" Gwen's eyes were red with tears. "What is this about?"

"No, Gwen, I…" Sorrow crossed his face. "I don't want anything from you. Actually, that would be a lie. You're a lovely woman and I enjoy your company; I want that much from you."

"I- I don't feel well." She lowered herself down onto the floor.

"Gwen, I didn't intend to upset you," He lowered himself next to her.

"Whaa?" Gwen gaped at him. "Then why the fuck say anything at all? To be an asshole? To ruin my day? What is wrong with you?"

"I hadn't imagined that my revelation would transpire like this." He folded his hands behind his head. Her reaction confirmed his suspicions that Gwen Stacy was indeed the Spider-Woman. His only motivation in exposing her was fueled by pure ego. What were the chances that a random woman he had met at the bar turned out to be the Spider-Woman? The chances were roughly 1 in 4.5 million.

"How exactly did this go in your mind?" As much as Gwen wanted to throttle him, she wouldn't. If she hadn't mentioned being her best friend's boyfriend's killer, none of this would have happened in the first place. She should have told him to fuck off the second she laid eyes on him.

"I made a mistake." A confession which took a great deal of effort for the man to admit to. "I had no intent to cause you distress."

Gwen snatched the wine bottle from his hand. "My life is one big ass ball of distress. And," Gwen could feel her hands trembling, "you certainly haven't helped."

"Does anything change, now that I know?" He felt guilty which was a rare emotion for the doctor.

Gwen chugged at the bottle; there wasn't much liquid left in it. "I'm not sure what you think you know, but I'm probably just going to have to kill you."

"Or," he didn't take her threat seriously, "you could tell me what happened."

Gwen shot him a filthy look, "Why do you care? What's your angle here? Are you trying to get some kind of confession out of me?"

"There isn't an angle here." He was only fueled by his self-conceit. "It was an unbelievable coincidence to have met you in the first place. When I suspected that you were Spider-Woman, I wasn't going to stop until I had revealed the truth. I did it because I could."

Gwen bolted up with the bottle of wine, "You really are an asshole. And here I thought that I was a big piece of garbage, but you're something else."

"I can acknowledge that," he stared up at her trembling figure. "I told you this when we first met."

"You should probably just fucking leave me alone."

"If that's what you want," he stood up. "Whether or not you believe it, I am sorry that I said anything."

"I threw him off a building," Gwen blurted out, and not because she wanted to, but because for once she felt compelled to. "He had changed into something; some kind of monster. I didn't know it at the time, but he had killed someone before he called me. When I found him I didn't even know it was him at the time; all I saw was a monster. It attacked me and lashed out at me and it wasn't long before… Before I realized that it was either him or me. We were on the roof of a thirty-story building, so I lured him to the edge…" She bowed her head. "And I shoved him off the building. When I jumped down to go after him I found him lying on the ground, I- I didn't find the monster. I found Peter Parker. Before he died in my arms, he told me that he just wanted to be like me."

Strange blankly stared at her in awe.

"Are you happy now?" she raised her head. "Is that what you wanted to hear?"

"It's not what I was expecting to hear."

Her eyes felt sore and tired, but she looked at him still. "I killed the only man I ever loved. And I feel dead inside every day because of it."

"People who are sensible about love are incapable of it." He quoted the modern political scientist Douglas Yates.

"I think it's time you left." Gwen kept her head turned away from him

"Have you gotten over your love for Peter Parker?" He rebuked.

"What?" She frowned at him.

"The only woman I ever loved," he cocked his head at her. "Her name was Madeleine Revell. I met her when I was in University and I fell madly in love with her. She was the type of woman that every man wanted to be with; uncompromisingly beautiful. I became obsessed with her."

"Obsession never ends well." Gwen grimaced at the non-existent progress they had made with the shelves.

"I underestimated her intelligence," he continued. "Seems to be an old habit that'll die with me. She saw where I was headed in life and refused to be a part of it. It hadn't occurred to me that she would deny me when I proposed to her. I became enraged and swore to never fall in love's trappings again. As I mentioned before, I was worse off for it."

"Broken people shouldn't be spending their time with other broken people." Gwen felt her anger morph into a feeling of deep sorrow.

"Au contraire, my dear," he took a single step towards her. "There is a level of understanding that can only be ascertained when both parties are equally damaged."

Gwen quickly glanced at him then back at the shelving. "I'm going to finish this. Alone."

At that moment, May walked into the storage room with a tray of food in hand. At first, her face was covered in May's typical infectious smile, but it faded into a look of bewilderment when she saw Gwen's sullen eyes.

"Is everything okay in here?" May carefully asked.

"Just fine." Gwen tried to establish a neutral tone in her voice.

"Oh…?" May pursed her lips when she saw the lack of progress. "I thought you two would have done more by now."

Stephen pasted a smile on his face and turned to May. "I apologize. I'm afraid our conversation derailed any headway."

"Yeah, sorry," Gwen flapped her hand at May.

Gwen was certain that this was what it felt like to have your life crumble before your eyes. And by now, why not just go down with the sinking ship?

May bent down to position the tray on the floor. "Well, it sounds like the two of you had a nice chat." She scanned the shelving and its lack of assembly. "I was hoping you two would finish before lights out."

Stephen gave the two women a once-over. "I was about to leave," he spoke to May.

"You can't leave a job unfinished, there's still lots to do!" May judged their lack of advancement.

"I'm not indigent when it comes to empathy," he observed Gwen's downturned face. "I'm conversant with the desire to be left alone."

May also noticed Gwen's solemn expression. "Okay. I guess that's fine." She didn't understand half of what he said, but she got the point.

Stephen kindly escorted May out of the storage room and shut the door behind him.

"What were the two of you talking about?" May didn't wait one second to ask.

"A few personal topics," he smiled at May.

"Give me your phone." May outstretched her arm.

"May, how forward of you," Stephen jeered. "What possible use could my phone be of to you?"

"I'm going to give you Gwen's number." She still held her palm out. "She refuses to talk to me, or her father, or her best friend, but if she's talking to you… Then it's better than nothing."

"I don't think she would be pleased to know that you're doing this, but," he sighed and handed his phone over to May, "as fate would have it."

"Fate?" May questioned while she reached for his phone.

"I said to Gwen that if fate would allow it, we would meet again." The words reoccurred to him.

"I wouldn't take you for a spiritual man, doctor," May said as she typed in Gwen's number.

"I'm not," he took the phone back from her. "It's a turn of phrase. And an astute one at that given our situation."

"Enjoy the rest of your night, Dr. Strange." May fluttered into the kitchen without glancing back.

He recalled a famous quote from Roman emperor Marcus Aurelius: "Accept the things to which fate binds you, and love the people with whom fate brings you together, but do so with all your heart.". But Stephen knew that fate was a fictitious commodity.


	8. Chapter 8: When I Die

What happens after we die? The one answer that most people refuse to accept is nothing. What if there is nothing after death? The problem with nothing is that we can't comprehend it. We can comprehend that we can't comprehend nothing, but there's no way to know what it feels like because nothing feels like nothing. The more time we spend trying to wrap and twist our finite minds around the concept, the more terrified we become. However, nothing comes with a substantial benefit that something doesn't have. If there is nothing, we never have to worry again.

Detective Lee was half asleep in his car when someone started to knock on the driver-side window. He was startled into consciousness and groped at his service pistol before noticing who it was. Through the darkness of the dimly lit street, he saw the faint silhouette of Spider-Woman. He rolled down his window before she could knock again.

"What the hell are you doing?!" He was trying not to shout at her, but his voice still raised an octave.

"Saying hi to my best pal, what else?" she feigned sadness in her tone.

Lee tilted his head outside of the window and glanced back and forth down the street. "If you want to talk, get the hell in!"

"Naw, I'm good." Spider-Woman stood tall and also looked back and forth down the street. "What are you looking for, Terry?"

"You're about to ruin my night and I might just arrest you for it." He batted in her direction through the car's open window.

"Oh!" Spider-Woman exaggerated her excitement. "You're on a stakeout, aren't you?"

"Jesus, just get in!" he begged her.

"Thing is," she leaned her elbows down on the car door. "The guy you're looking for; he already left."

"And how would you know?" He frowned at her.

"He left out of a different door, so yeah-" she stopped when two passing pedestrians noticed the amazing Spider-Woman.

The two teenage boys were brought to a standstill. "Holy shit!" One of them remarked. "Are you the fucking Spider-Woman? For real?"

"One and only," she walked around Lee's car to get a closer look at the young boys.

"This is fucking amazing!" He shouted directly in his friend's face; as if the kid didn't notice himself. "My boys aren't gonna believe this. Can we get a selfie with you?"

"Anything for a fan," Spider-Woman positioned herself between the two and draped her arms over their shoulders. "Say: fuck the police!" She laughed at herself while the one boy snapped the shot.

The teenage boy who took the photo stared down at his phone. "This is fucking lit."

The other boy held a grin from ear to ear. "You're the best, Spider-Woman."

"Okay, okay," she saluted the two boys. "I got Spider business to deal with."

They both nodded their heads and the one said, "You keep kicking ass."

"And you two," she pointed at them, "Stay in school and don't do drugs."

The two howled with laughter as they strode away.

Spider-Woman opened the passenger side door of Lee's car and plopped herself on the seat.

"Fuck the police?" He sighed. "That's your advice to young impressionable teenage boys; fuck the police?"

"Did you hear what I said?" She twisted her body to face the detective. "I told them to stay in school and not do drugs."

"Would you knock it off?" he smacked her hand when she started digging through his vehicle's glove box. "You gonna tell me about my guy or what?"

"I don't know." She rubbed at the top of her hand pretending to be hurt. "While you were snoozing, he went out the back."

"Fuck." He smacked his fists against the steering wheel.

"Whoa." She put her hands up. "Take it easy, detective."

"Were you stalking me or something?" He frowned in response. "You could have at least woken me up."

"First off," Spider-Woman started counting on her fingers, "I was stalking you because I wanted to talk. Second, I'm not your alarm clock. And third, you suck."

A short growling noise came from the detective's throat.

"You'll get them again," she offered a tone of encouragement. "Anyway, got a minute?"

"I do now," he sighed. "What is it?"

"So, I unlocked the phone that the Miller Twins had and not surprisingly found barely anything." She reached her hand down the top of her suit and brought out the phone. "There was a history of several phone calls from five numbers in total. There wasn't any contact information with the numbers and no texts. I figure that this is some kind of burner phone. And I thought a smartphone was a weird choice for a burner, but it's some kind of refurbished iPhone 4. Honestly, there isn't really anything you could do with a phone-"

"-Spi, what's your point here?" Lee was in no mood tonight for her quips and rants.

"Okay, my point-" she continued, "-my point is, is… That I did a reverse lookup online but had no luck. The numbers came up, but there were no businesses or names associated with them."

"So it's a dead-end?" He wasn't opposed to Spider-Woman investigating what she could where she could, but anytime he helped her he was asking for trouble. He wasn't opposed to helping her, it's just the more you stick your neck out for somebody, the more likely you'd get bit in the ass for it.

"You have access to technology that I don't have access to." She wiggled the phone. "Police records and files that I can't access. You might be able to find something out for me."

"I'll do it, but be grateful that I'm a supporter of the Spider-Woman even if it's going to cost me my job someday." If it had been anyone else in the world who asked for help, the answer would have been no. Saying no to Spider-Woman? That was out of the question.

"Fabulous." She tossed the phone in his lap. "I took the passcode off, so that shouldn't be a problem anymore."

"I saw something funny in the news earlier this week." He threw the smartphone in his glove box. "An invisible Spider-Woman stopped a daylight robbery. I had no idea you could turn invisible."

"Neither did I," she joked. "It was a pretty crazy surprise."

"Right." He paid no heed to her sarcasm.

"There was another reason I came to see you," her tone dropped.

"You're going to do my taxes, for free? Great." He flipped his wrist to stare at a watch that wasn't there. "I'm over three weeks late."

"Wow," she nodded. "Where'd this sense of humor come from?"

"What can I say, you've rubbed off on me."

"Hmm, you make it sound so dirty," she teased.

"Were you going to tell me why else you're here? Or are you saving that for the next time you scare the shit out of me?"

"I was wondering about our lizard friend," she got straight to the point. "Any new sightings or reports?"

"Nothing that I've heard."

"Whoever it is, they were smart enough to not get caught." Spider-Woman pulled at the bottom of her mask. "Who was the woman he killed? Why go out of your way to avoid being seen just for a random killing?"

"I can get you her file if you want," he offered. "From what I remember she was mid-thirties and I think she was a nurse at Mount Sinai. Pretty normal person from what I could tell."

"On paper, I look like a pretty normal person, too," she remarked.

"You mean you as an individual and not Spider-Woman?"

"Yeah, of course." Spider-Woman pushed open Lee's car door with her foot. "Call me as soon as you got all that shit."

"Hey, wait!" he grabbed her arm and pulled her back.

"Lee!" she jerked her arm out of his grip. "How forward of you. At least buy me a drink first."

"Spi," he grunted at her. "This is a two-way relationship, remember? I need you to help me out."

"What can the lovely Spider-Woman do for you tonight, detective?" She supposed it was fair game for him to ask for something in return.

"Before you interrupted me so rudely, I was following up on a lead related to a double homicide." He rummaged through his pocket for a folded sheet of paper. "He was last seen with the idiot that you let escape. We already brought him in for questioning, but he's playing innocent in the whole thing."

"Ha! I let escape?" she let out her sarcastic laugh. "You were the one who was sleeping on the job."

"Whatever," he ignored her. "I had a suspicion that he might just lead me right to who I'm looking for. We already know the guy's guilty, we just gotta find him. And I think you could do that a lot faster than me."

"That's assuming we know where he went. And I don't, in case you were wondering."

He handed the folded piece of paper over to Spider-Woman. "Here you go."

The paper had two photos on it; one was the man from earlier and she presumed the second photo was Lee's culprit. Their names were handwritten underneath the pictures; The man she had seen earlier went by the name Ulysses Confortola and the killer's name was Braden Groves.

"That's it?" she shook out the paper thinking there had to be more to it, but no such luck. "You want me to search all of New York for these two assholes? Even if I had x-ray vision, there's no way I'm going to find them."

"I know his dealer and he's bound to head back there sooner or later. Stake out the place and go from there."

"I'm literally just doing your job now, detective." She folded the paper back up and shoved it down the front of her costume.

"Did I mention that the perp you're after is considered to be armed and dangerous?" He added.

"Then why isn't there a search party out for him right now?"

"He's Hydra, Spi," Lee explained. "Half the force refuses to go after him and the other half are too afraid to do anything about it."

"Let me put this together," she slowly took in a deep breath. "This guy is a murderer, there's a warrant out for his arrest, and no cop wants to go after him? What was your plan when you caught this guy; if you caught him?"

"That would be on me," he nodded in response. "Publically he's a criminal and the families of the people he killed want justice. Hydra won't go after him, but when I bring him in they'll be happy to say it was another job well done on behalf of the NYPD."

"So they'll take the good publicity even if they don't want to put him behind bars?" What a perfect group of assholes, Gwen thought. "And what about you?"

"I'll be shunned as usual, but they'll continue to tolerate me." He resealed a heavy sigh. "Their dealer has a place in The Bronx. I'll text you the address."

"Well," she made a second attempt to leave his car. "You had me at armed and dangerous."

"Be careful." His concern for her was sincere. She had been helping him take down criminals for the better part of a year; being a cop wouldn't be the same without her. For the most part, it was rare that he saw her; it happened maybe once or twice a month since he first met her. As of recently though, she had been contacting him more and more often. He wondered what could have caused the change.

"I got it," she twisted her body to jump out of the car. "Of the two of us, you're the one more likely to get hurt. So just remember to call me when the big boys come around to bully you."

He watched her leap into the air and shoot her web onto a nearby apartment. He smiled to himself as she vanished into the distance swinging from web to web. He wouldn't say it to her face, but Spider-Woman was a badass. Even though the two of them spent most of their time together bickering, a small part of him enjoyed their encounters. Maybe he enjoyed her company too much. He shook the thought from his mind and moved on with his night.

Waiting was the worst for Gwen. Taking time to wind down and relax wasn't her style. It mostly wasn't her style because moments of silence allowed her dark thoughts to surface. She buried all the events of her life from thirteen years ago. She buried the accident; she buried her disappearance. However, all of those events still existed and she could recall them in perfect detail. She kept herself occupied so she wouldn't have to think about any of it. The past was the past and talking about it wasn't going to change the truth.

"Armed and dangerous?" Spider-Woman sneered to herself. She had located a private and dark rooftop to prowl on while she waited for her suspects to arrive. She could see directly into their dealer's apartment from where she rested. It was a curious fact that Lee knew this guy was a dealer but took no legal actions against him. Although, it did make sense to leave a few low-level criminals hanging around to help you catch bigger fish.

Gwen dangled her legs off the edge of the concrete building. There was no telling how long she would be waiting around for that asshole. On top of that, she had a job to get to in the morning, so she could only stake the place out for so long. On top of that, if she did skip work to keep a watch on the place, there were no good hiding spots for the colorful spider during the day.

She plucked at the tight dry suit that was her Spider disguise. It was Peter who came up with the idea for the multi-colored suit. Neither of them had skills with a sewing machine, but they were fast learners. All Gwen cared about was that the suit was comfortable and that it was waterproof. If criminals didn't get her, pneumonia certainly would. They only ever made one together and it was the one she wore still. She had to sew it up a few times and the fabric was beginning to wear in a few places, but it was still a functioning disguise.

How odd would it be for her to order a custom made Spider suit online? People of New York wear Spider-Woman costumes all the time. They usually wear cheap dollar store crap, but she had seen some top-notch replicas before. Ordering a new badass suit on the internet wouldn't seem as suspicious as before. Hell, since she was getting extra income from her job at Oscorp, why not get a new suit?

For a few moments, she had forgotten about her mess of a life. Being Spider-Woman was way better than being Gwen Stacy. Life was complicated for Gwen Stacy, but everything was straight forward for Spider-Woman. Fighting crime, swinging from rooftop to rooftop; all of that felt great. The only reason Gwen Stacy existed was because Spider-Woman existed.

"Maybe I'll just retire Gwen Stacy and spend the rest of my life kicking ass as Spider-Woman," she commented to herself. Reasons to live were hard to come by and Gwen used Spider-Woman as an excuse to be reckless. You never know what might happen in the perilous world of crime-fighting. And if something did happen, at least she would die a hero. Is that what Gwen Stacy truly wanted; to die? The painful memories of her encounters with both May and Dr. Strange still lingered in the foreground of her mind. She figured she'd be better off dead than to ever have to see either one of them again.

A few more hours passed and Gwen could see the sun peaking on the horizon. Unless this asshole showed up in the next hour, Gwen had to get home. She did appreciate having the job over going to school, though. She didn't have to worry or think about Oscorp when she wasn't there. School, however, required a lot more time and effort. There were times she got Cs on tests and she was the project member that all other group members would complain about, but it was worth it to her. There was a lot she'd sacrifice to be Spider-Woman.

"Alright," she looked at her phone. "Sorry boys, but I have work to do."

Speak of the devil was an overused and cliché expression, but it certainly fits the bill in this situation. Just as Gwen was about to soar off home, the idiot Confortola appeared around the street corner. His timing couldn't have been worse, but Gwen wasn't willing to let him out of her sight now that she had him. However, the waiting game wasn't over. She just hoped this guy would lead her to Lee's suspect sooner than later.

Gwen jumped across the street so she could fix herself next to the side of the dealer's window. The dealer's apartment was only six-stories up, so she wasn't in an inconspicuous position. As much as she preferred not to, she decided that going invisible would be the best option. Gwen's hearing was technically no better than the average human, but her abilities gave her hyper-awareness when it came to vibrations. This technique of sensing fine vibrations allowed her to put together words and conversations through walls and at great distances. Between being able to cloak herself and hear through walls, she was practically the perfect spy.

She revolved herself to face the window and stretched out her hand across its glass surface. She was just in time to see Confortola being let in by the dealer.

Confortola made a disgusting noise with his throat as he cleared it. "When was the last time you talked to Brady?"

How opportunistic, Gwen thought. Straight to what she was after.

"Why?" the dealer frowned before pulling a black case off of his ratty TV stand. "You fuckin' looking for the crazy bastard?'

"No shit," Confortola slapped the case out of his dealer's hand. "PD had me locked up yesterday morning asking me questions 'bout the goddamn prick."

"Hey man!" his dealer scrambled to the floor to retrieve the box. "Brady ain't my fuckin' friend. He's your asshole."

"I need to find him and tell him the fucking pigs are out for him." Confortola spat on the dealer's floor. "So when did you see him last?"

"Fuck man, I dunno," there was a hint of revulsion in the dealer's voice. "He was here last night with that fucking Angie skank."

"Is he stayin' with Angie?"

"Fuck if I know," the dealer threw himself down on his ragged leather sofa. "I don't ask the guy shit about his life."

It appeared that Confortola's plan was to find his buddy Brady at Angie's place. But Spider-Woman wondered if there was the possibility that she could get there first. Gwen moved away from the window and pulled her flip phone from out of the front of her suit. The flip phone was a cheap piece of junk that she used for the singular purpose of contacting Detective Lee.

"Detective?" Gwen spoke the second he answered and before he had the chance to say hello.

"Did you find Braden Groves?" he asked.

"Maybe, and I was hoping to get to him before our friend Ulysses can." She peered back in the window and noticed that Confortola had left. "Mr. Groves might have a girlfriend named Angie; does that ring any bells?"

"Yeah, I know her," the detective helpfully responded. "Name's Angie Miles. She's been charged on solicitation a few times already."

"How wonderful," she cracked. "You just have all the juicy info on NYC's finest, don't you?"

"That's my job," he replied flatly.

"Text me her address and I'll get back to you if I find anything." She didn't wait for him to respond before hanging up.

Angie's shitty New York City apartment was no nicer to look at than the dealer's shitty New York City apartment. It was as if all the criminal scum in the city shopped out of the same dumpster behind a Goodwill. They had no sense of practicality and definitely no sense of cleanliness. Spider-Woman did notice a shared priority amongst low-level criminals, though; they all owned an oversized flat-screen television.

"Fascinating." Gwen rubbed a gloved finger against her mouth. She saw, who she could only assume was Angie Miles, with Braden Groves through the apartment's living room window. People of the NYC loved leaving their curtains or blinds wide open all day and night. It unquestionably made Spider-Woman's job a lot easier.

Gwen silently leapt onto the building's fire escape. All she really had to do was bust in through the window, preferably not breaking it in the process, and web Mr. Groves to the floor or wall or ceiling if necessary. This time, however, she wouldn't be invisible. She had already spent too much time as the invisible woman and it was starting to make her light-headed. She risked running out of webbing if she turned invisible for any longer.

Neither Angie or Braden were paying attention to the window that Spider-Woman started to raise. Instead, the two sat on Angie's couch watching pre-recorded episodes of Lethal Weapon. Gwen looked at the time on her phone. Who the fuck watches Lethal Weapon at seven in the morning, she wondered. She couldn't even recall the last time she watched a television show.

Unexpectedly, the window made a sharp squealing sound as Gwen was in the process of raising it. Both Angie and Braden jumped up to find Spider-Woman trying to break into their apartment. Despite them noticing, Gwen finished opening the window and made herself at home.

"Braden Groves?" Spider-Woman asked.

"Hello," he gave her a perverse and crooked smile filled with yellow teeth. "You know, I've always wanted to meet the Spider-Woman."

"Oh it's your lucky day," Gwen examined his hand which was currently reaching behind his back. "You try to shoot me; you're going to regret it."

His wicked eyes narrowed on her. "Do you think you scare me? I'm gonna knock you the fuck out, pull that slutty costume off of you, and rape your little ass."

"Ew, gross," Spider-Woman waved her hands at him. "No thanks."

He pulled a gun from behind his back and pointed it at her. "You're going to do exactly what I want."

"Odd," she cocked her head at him. "You think you're going to stop me with a pistol? Do you know who I am?"

Without warning, he fired the gun at Gwen, but she had already moved out of the way of the oncoming bullet. Angie let out a scream and dropped to the floor for safety.

"I said that you were going to regret trying to shoot me," Gwen calmly folded her arms over.

"Yeah, you think you're really fucking clever?" he spat at her. "You touch me and Hydra will never let you forget it."

"Right," Gwen nodded. "Because Hydra and I are already tight pals."

She webbed his pistol and caught it from the air before breaking the weapon in two. Angie had crawled to the opposite side of the couch and was no longer in Spider-Woman's view.

"So, what's the plan now?" Spider-Woman asked as she dropped the remnants of the gun to the floor. "Still going to put up a fight?"

"I'm gonna knock you the fuck out," he fumed at her.

Gwen didn't even give him the chance. She launched a string of webbing at his legs which caused him to topple over face first.

"Fuck you!" he shouted through a bloody and broken nose.

"Ouch," Spider-Woman said as she shot even more webbing at him, effectively sticking him to the linoleum tiles.

Angie stood up from behind the couch pointing the loaded barrel of a shotgun at Spider-Woman's torso.

"Don't do it!" Gwen shouted, but it was already too late.


	9. Chapter 9: Private Consultation

The greatest suffering we know is that of our own. Most humans are capable of having empathy towards others, but you can never know what it's like to be someone else. We are blind and ignorant towards the experiences of others. Someone somewhere is on their deathbed holding on to their last breath, meanwhile, you've just had an argument with your boyfriend. Everyone wants to be the king of pain, but they've never seen pain. If only you could see the others who wish for a life like yours.

Gwen couldn't stop Angie from pulling the trigger on the shotgun. Angie Miles was unable to assess the situation in the same manner that Gwen Stacy could. When Angie fired on the Spider-Woman, said spider was able to spring out of the line of fire. Braden, on the other hand, was not able to move because he was stuck to the ground like a trapped fly. Gwen had been standing between the prone Braden and terrified Angie when the blast went off. Braden's trapped body was showered in shotgun pellets.

Angie's eyes went wide and she screamed, "Oh my god! No!"

Spider-Woman looked down at her left arm. "Shit…" she spoke as she curled her fist. Multiple pellets found their way into Gwen's arm; it was the most pain she had felt in a very long time.

"No, Brady," Angie rasped as she threw herself down to her deceased lover.

"Grr," Gwen grunted as she grabbed at her arm.

Angie whirled her head up to Spider-Woman with a contorted expression full of tears. "Call a fucking ambulance!"

Gwen Stacy pulled her phone from the front of her uniform. Gwen Stacy was losing a lot of blood. Gwen Stacy called Detective Terry Lee.

"Any luck?" Lee said when he answered.

"Uh, there's a chance that somebody has already called the cops, but you should probably get an ambulance down here."

"What did you do, Spi?!" he shouted.

"Well," Gwen briefly shifted the phone away from her mouth to let out a sigh of distress. "His girlfriend accidentally shot him instead of me."

"Jesus, Spi," sounds of shuffling came through Lee's line. "Are you okay?"

"Just great," Gwen stared down at her dripping arm. "I gotta bounce."

Without another word, she hung up on him. As well, Spider-Woman knew she had overstayed her welcome. Gwen made her way back to the living room window, but Angie wasn't going to let her leave in silence.

"I'm gonna fucking kill you!" Angie roared at Spider-Woman. "I'm gonna make sure you fucking die!"

Gwen didn't respond as she slipped out the window.

Gwen Stacy had never taken a bullet in her life. She had dodged plenty of bullets, both literally and figuratively, but not once had she actually been shot. Logically, what a person does in this situation is go to a hospital, but there were many reasons Gwen couldn't go to a hospital. Having to explain to her father how she managed to get several pellets of metal stuck in her arm, was out of the question. So, Gwen Stacy did exactly what a person shouldn't do; she went home to deal with it herself.

Luckily when Gwen arrived back home, no one was there to greet her. Not only was getting home one-handed exceptionally difficult, it was further impeded by Terry Lee's unending string of hammer calls. How much blood could she lose before she passed out, Gwen asked herself. It was probably better that she didn't think too much about it.

The first order of business for Gwen was raiding her father's liquor cabinet. Her life was about to get extremely painful, and a bottle of whiskey would be much appreciated in the moment. This wouldn't be the first time the Spider-Woman had to stitch herself up, but those were all cuts from knives or punches. Gwen had quick reflexes; reflexes which were better than the average human. Because of this, it was exceedingly rare for her to get injured.

"I'll have to get the pellets out somehow…" she cringed at the idea. Initially, she attempted with great agony, to pull the pellets out with a pair of tweezers. Unfortunately, she was unable to get a solid grip on any of the small objects.

"Shit," she slunk down to the foot of her bed with a towel wrapped around her bloody arm. Gwen figured a pair of needle-nose pliers was her second-best bet for getting the metal out, but she liked that idea even less than the tweezers. She stared at the bottle of whiskey, stolen from her father's cabinet.

"Okay," she whispered to the bottle. "We're going to be good friends and we're going to get this done." She then drank half the bottle in one continuous guzzle.

After finding a pair of pliers and a sharp box cutter in her dad's garage, she went into her bathroom and rested at the lip of the tub.

"Just, please… Don't pass out, Gwen," she prepared herself.

As she had guessed, the pliers were too large to fit into any of the holes made by the shotgun pellets. In order to remove the pellets, she would have to cut larger holes into her arm. The first cut was by far the worst and it left her yelling obscenities at no one in particular. By the time she was done, she had removed fourteen pellets from her arm and her bathroom was covered in blood.

Gwen held the dirty towel against her arm and rocked back and forth at the edge of the tub. She was dizzy and her vision was getting blurry; most likely a side effect of both the booze and loss of blood. However, she still needed to put some stitches in her arm.

"Okay…" she deeply exhaled. Against her better judgment, Gwen drank the rest of the bottle of whiskey. If it wasn't for Spider-Woman's unbeatable constitution, she would have passed out long ago.

She made a mess of the cupboard underneath her bathroom counter in her search for a needle and some thread. She realized that she was beginning to lose consciousness and that she didn't have a whole lot of time left. She was sure if she managed to sew her wounds up before she passed out, she'd be okay. Although, there was no way for her to know for certain.

"Oh, thank god," Gwen cried to herself in relief after a solid twenty minutes of sewing. She was finished and it looked like most of the bleeding had stopped. "Doctor, detective, all-around cool chick," she slurred the words before her unconscious body slid into the bathroom tub.

Gwen woke up curled in the bottom of her bathtub roughly ten hours later. She was unaware of how much time had passed, and she was in a state of disorientation. The effects of the alcohol had faded, but she was left with a throbbing headache. Though, in comparison to her blinding migraines, the headache was a welcome feeling.

She struggled to lift her arm above her waist to get a better look at it. She wasn't terrifically satisfied with the job she had down stitching her arm up; the sutures were malformed and probably wouldn't hold for more than a day. Sooner than later, Gwen was going to have to take them out and try again. The notion of shoving a needle through her arm again several times was highly unappealing.

Still laying inside the tub, Gwen maneuvered her foot to turn on the shower. The quick jolt of ice-cold water caused her to let out a short yelp of shock. If she wasn't awake before, she indisputably was now. She spent the following hour in the bathroom scrubbing her blood off of every surface it had touched. It wasn't until she left her bathroom, that she registered the amount of time that had passed.

She picked up her phone, not her burner, to take stock of the time. The clock on her phone read 7:36 pm, much to her astonishment. Not only had she slept through the entire day, she had also slept through work. On top of that, she had missed several phone calls and texts, and she would worry about all of them later.

"Fuck…" Gwen murmured to herself with a long sigh.

Presently, someone started knocking on her bedroom door. Gwen gaped down at what she was wearing, which was nothing but a blood-stained towel. She also noticed the droplets of blood that formed a line between her bedroom window and the bathroom; there were more spatters of red across her bed.

The knock came again, but this time it was accompanied by her dad's voice, "Gwen, are you in there? May made some dinner and she was wondering if you wanted any."

"Uh, yeah, sure," Gwen frantically glanced around her room. "I'll be down in a couple minutes."

As soon as she heard her father tread away, she rushed back into her bathroom. After some subtle movements, some of her crude stitches began to leak with blood. She rummaged through her bathroom cupboards, but couldn't find sufficient bandages for her damaged arm. Gwen went back into her bedroom and pulled a baggy, black sweater on; it would have to do for the time being.

When Gwen arrived at the dinner table, all plates had been set and her father was already settled in his chair. Gwen strode to the seat across from him and carefully sat down.

"Gwen?" her father gave her an odd look. "Are you getting sick? You don't look so good."

Gwen tilted her head up. "Uh… Yeah, I think so. Must have got it from somebody at work."

"My motto has always been that if you're sick, don't go to work," he gestured at her with a fork. "All you do is get other people sick and it goes around in a circle for weeks."

"Yeah," Gwen was too tired to offer him a longer response.

May centered a casserole dish full of lasagna at the table, but she also noticed Gwen's pale face. "Maybe you should take tomorrow off, hun."

Gwen could feel herself slipping into unconsciousness again. "It's fine," she said. She then fixed her slouching and shook her head to try to keep herself awake.

"Are you sure?" May wasn't convinced.

"I just need a good meal and a good night's sleep," Gwen tried her best to make a smile for May.

Standing behind Gwen, May placed a firm hand on the young girl's shoulder. "Can I get your help for a second, Gwen?"

George frowned at May and spoke, "May? The girl is exhausted, let her rest for a while."

"It'll be one second," May gave him her soft stare.

Gwen steadily lifted herself and followed May through the foyer and into the living room.

May placed her petite hands on the side of Gwen's shoulders. "Are you okay?" she asked with great concern in her eyes.

"Yeah, of course," Gwen lied.

"What happened, Gwen?" May wasn't going to relent.

"I'm sick, that's all," Gwen lied again. "I got soaked a few days ago; I think I got a cold from it."

May peered down to Gwen's left palm and noticed trailing drops of blood. "I don't buy it, Gwen," May pointed to the blood.

"Uh," Gwen lifted her hand. "It's nothing, really."

"Nothing?" May forcefully grabbed the girl's left elbow and rolled up her sleeve.

"Goddammit, May!" Gwen bawled as threads of the sweater got caught on her makeshift stitches.

"Nothing?" May spoke with wide eyes as she inspected Gwen's wounds. "What did you do to yourself?!"

"Shhh," Gwen shushed May. "It's not as bad as it looks, I swear."

"Gwen, you got to go to a hospital," May turned Gwen's arm over.

"Dammit, May," Gwen cringed in pain, pulling her arm away from May. "Going to the hospital is out of the question."

"How did this even happen to you?"

"I got shot," Gwen shamefully admitted. "Some crazy woman… It doesn't matter."

"Shot!" May gasped.

"May, shhh!" Gwen covered the woman's mouth with her palm.

"Hun," May pushed Gwen's hand away. "You're not a doctor. If you get an infection or worse… You're going to end up in the hospital later if you don't go now."

"Thing is, May," Gwen clasped her hands together, "there's a lot of reasons why I can't go to the hospital. God forbid someone gives me a blood test, and they probably will to see if I have an infection or not."

"Why are you worried about a blood test, Gwen?" May was perplexed by Gwen's response.

"I don't know what kind of things doctors look for in a blood test, but, uh…" She dropped her arms to her side and lowered her head. "There's a chance they're going to find something, and I'll probably spend the rest of my life in a hospital because of it."

"Gwen, what could they possibly find?"

"Uh, for starters, I guess uh…" Gwen paused for a breath. "They could find out that I'm literally radioactive."

"What?" May was baffled. "Radioactive? What are you talking about?"

"May, it has to do with my powers and it's a long story," Gwen shook her head. "I'm not risking a trip to the emergency room; I won't do it."

"We'll get you some bandages," May replied. "But we're going to have to find a better solution."

"I don't know," Gwen shrugged back. "I don't have options May. There isn't anyone I can go to."

"You don't know any doctors, do you?" And the second the words left May's lips, she answered her own question.

Gwen saw the expression of realization on her step-mother's face. "No."

"Do you know anyone else?" May pleaded with her daughter.

"No, I don't know any other doctors, but that doesn't matter anyway," Gwen scowled. "I'm not going to explain to him what happened. That's ridiculous."

"True," May lifted her eyes to the ceiling in thought. "He would probably tell you to go to the hospital. I hate to say it Gwen, but it would be convenient if you knew a doctor who also knew you were Spider-Woman."

"Besides," Gwen was aware of the irony that this situation presented, "I'm not his biggest fan. We didn't have the best conversation when I saw him last."

"Oh, Gwen," May scrunched her face. "I'm sorry. He seems like a nice guy, egotistical, but nice. I thought since you'd already met him, maybe…"

"Maybe nothing." Gwen's scowl softened. "I'll redo my own stitches and I'm sure it'll be fine, okay?"

"I think you still need to give him a chance, hun," May wouldn't give up.

"Why are we still talking about this?" Gwen pulled her sweater sleeve back over her damaged arm.

"What's going to happen when those wounds don't heal properly and you can't use that arm anymore?" Of all the possible awful outcomes that Gwen could experience in life, this was one that May wasn't going to let go. "You don't have to tell him what happened, just that you need his help."

"Why won't you let this go?" Gwen let out a genuine whine.

"Because the last thing I want is for you to die over being, over being petty."

"Petty?" Gwen echoed her step-mother. "I'm being petty about this?'

"Gwen," May regretted her use of the word. "You're a stubborn girl if I've ever met one. I don't want to see you die because of it."

"May, I'm not going to die."

"If you don't ask Stephen for help, I will," May threatened.

"I don't know how to contact him; I don't have his number." She was done arguing about it. As mentioned before, May didn't like to give in until she got what she wanted. Explaining to Stephen what transpired wasn't the problem, the problem was seeing him again. He knew that she was Spider-Woman, so the gunshot wound likely wouldn't be a big surprise to him. Although, who is to say what kind of life he thinks Spider-Woman leads. What she didn't appreciate was that he put her in an awkward situation and made her feel awful. Good people don't make other people feel like garbage; even if he was sorry about what he said.

"Well," May's expression of concern contorted to one of guilt. "I did give him your number when you saw him at the shelter."

Gwen deeply inhaled to extinguish her frustration. "Okay, I… I don't know what you were thinking when you did that. But I haven't heard from him, so what does it matter?"

"Aww, really?" May was disappointed. "I told him that he needed to talk to you. But you know what, I probably have all of his information on file at the shelter."

"Uh, can we worry about that later?" Gwen bit the bottom of her lip. "I still need bandages and dad is probably waiting for us?"

Gwen didn't say a word to May or her dad as she devoured half of the lasagna May had prepared.

George raised his brow at May then moved his eyes to Gwen. "Good thing you still have an appetite."

"I should go to bed," Gwen said as she got up from her chair.

"Take it easy," he patted her arm as she walked by; her left arm.

"Mmmmhm," Gwen tried her best not to react from the pain. "See you in the morning."

When Gwen arrived in her bedroom, she laid down on her bed to take a look at her phone. Three missed calls from Oscorp, one missed call from MJ and an unread text, and one unread text from an unknown number. She had bets on who the unknown number belonged to. What the fuck are the chances, she thought to herself. A whole week went by where Dr. Strange could have contacted her, but he waited until today of all days?

She decided she would phone Oscorp in the morning and try to make up some sort of explanation for her sudden disappearance. At least tomorrow was Friday, so she'd have the weekend off to recover; not that Spider-Woman ever took a day off… The message from MJ simply read, 'Hope you're doing well. Miss you XO.'. She hadn't said a single word to MJ since Gwen decided to leave the band. Gwen said a lot of mean things to MJ that day, and MJ was too forgiving. It was more than Gwen deserved. As she suspected, the unknown text was from Stephen.

"Hi Gwen, it's Stephen. I'd like to take you out for dinner this weekend if you're available," she read his text. There was no end to that man's audacity. After everything he said, to even suggest such a thing; it was absurd. But Gwen also recalled that she had told him about Peter's death; about what had happened. And after she told him, it felt like she lost a part of herself. She lost a piece of that pile of pain and suffering that dwelled beneath the surface of who she pretended to be.

"Are you busy tonight?" she typed in response.

After a couple of minutes, his reply text read, "I'm free after 9pm, if that's not too late for you."

"I need stitches," she wrote back.

"Is that a joke?" he was quick to respond.

She sent him her address and offered him no further information.

When George answered a knock on his front door at 9:15pm, he was greeted by a tall man with dark hair who had a polite smile painted across his mouth.

"Can I help you?" George knit his brows at the strange man.

"I'm looking for Gwen Stacy."

"What for?" with narrowing eyes, George scrutinized the sharply dressed man.

"She invited me," Stephen shrugged with open palms.

Just then, May puttered up to the foyer door. "Oh, Stephen!" she spoke over George's shoulder.

George turned his body to face May and said, "You know this guy?"

"He's a doctor," May offered George a confident grin. "He's going to take a look at Gwen and see if she's alright."

Stephen presented his traveling medical kit to George. "I'm a doctor," he confirmed.

"Yeah?" George found the man to be unusually suspicious. "What kind of doctor?"

"A medical doctor, what else?" Stephen tilted his head at George Stacy who was a wall of a man.

May moved into the doorway to grab Stephen's arm. "I met Dr. Strange at the shelter; he makes regular donations."

"That I do," he smiled at May. "Nice to meet you…?"

George stuck out his thick hand for a shake. "Captain George Stacy," he responded.

"If you don't mind, Captain," Stephen glanced around the quaint foyer, "I'd like to check on Gwen Stacy."

May pulled at Stephen's arm again and pointed up the stairs. "Second door on the right."

"Of course," he nodded at the two and proceeded.

Gwen was startled awake when she heard someone knocking at her bedroom door. "Yeah?" she grunted at whoever it was.

"Somebody needed stitches?" Stephen quietly spoke through the door.

She got up from her bed to let him in. "Come in," she gestured at him with a flop of her arm.

"You appear to be tremendously unwell, Gwen Stacy," he said as he noticed her pale complexion and sunken eyes.

"Well, I lost a lot of blood… Not sure how much exactly," she stared at the trail of crimson on her bedroom floor.

"I noticed," he saw a pool of blood sitting underneath her window which was accompanied by a smeared red handprint across the wall. "What exactly happened?"

"I got hit from a shotgun blast," she gingerly rolled up the wet sleeve on her sweater. "I would have googled, 'How to bandage yourself up after taking a shotgun blast', but I didn't have a lot of time."

"May I?" he reached out for her wounded arm and she allowed him to take it. He studied the crude and uneven stitches that Gwen had given herself. "Were you drunk when you did this?"

"First off," she felt a tinge of pain from his touch, "It took me at least fifteen minutes to get home after I was shot; I had to swing one-handed. And second off, I drank an entire bottle of whiskey before I sewed myself up."

"There's your problem." He saw that her stitching had significantly slowed the bleeding, but he noticed something else peculiar about the lesions. "When did you get shot?"

"Uh, this morning," she noted a tone of confusion in his words. "Why?"

"Despite your obvious lack of skills when it comes to First Aid," he led her over to her bed, "My better judgment would tell me that your injuries are more than a few days old."

"Spider-Woman powers," was the explanation she gave. "I've always been able to heal faster than normal people."

"Please," Stephen gestured Gwen to sit on the bed as he did. "Aren't you the lucky one?"

"Lucky?" Gwen couldn't help herself from a small chuckle. "I wouldn't call getting shot at by a maniac with a shotgun, lucky."

"I'll be honest, Gwen," he positioned his medical kit to the right side of him on the bed, "I wasn't expecting to hear from you. Understandably, I caused you a great amount of distress."

"May threatened to call you herself," Gwen felt guilty about her response, but she knew he wasn't worth her guilt.

"Is that so?" he removed a pair of minuscule scissors from his bag. "You told her that you were shot? How do you explain an event like that to your mother?"

"She has a way of forcing everything out of you," Gwen twitched when he put the scissors near her arm.

"This is going to be painful," he stopped moving. "However, I doubt it will prove to be more painful than what you've already gone through."

"I was drunk at the time," Gwen glared at the scissors.

"You were drunk when you got shot, too?"

"You're missing my point," she wrapped her fingers around his hand. "I knew I was going to have to do this again, and I wasn't looking forward to stabbing myself with a needle several dozen more times."

Stephen was surprised that she managed to perform any practical First Aid on herself at all. Most individuals would have passed out from the pain of the initial gunshot wound. Having the constitution to conduct surgery on oneself without local anesthetic was virtually unheard of. Often human subconsciousness protects us from agony by forcefully shutting down the conscious mind, but not Gwen Stacy. Gwen Stacy was an exceedingly rare and gifted individual. The question was: how did Gwen Stacy become so special?


	10. Chapter 10: Wreck of You

Forgive and forget. Forgiveness is difficult; to forget is next to impossible. Often the most traumatic experiences in our lives are created from someone else's wrongdoing. The ability to forgive a person for damaging your being is onerous, but forgetting is maddening. You cannot predict what the human mind will cling to and you cannot force it to delete what is unwanted. Forgiveness can be offered, though it will be haunted by memory. And memories have the deadly habit of surfacing when you least expect them.

Gwen Stacy's life didn't flash before her eyes the day she thought she was going to die. Her last thought before her mother hit the oncoming vehicle was simply, 'I'm going to die.'. That was the only thought that Gwen Stacy had time for; however, she didn't die. Gwen Stacy was the unlucky winner of the World's Worst Lottery.

Four microscopic events took place before the World's Worst Lottery. The first event was Gwen Stacy's mother taking a glance in the rear-view mirror in order to smile at her two young children. The second event was Gwen Stacy's mother suddenly noticing a fawn had wandered onto the right side of the road. The third event was Gwen Stacy's mother swerving her car to the left side of the road. The fourth event was the car turning the corner on the opposite side of the road that Gwen Stacy's mom collided into. The World's Worst Lottery had begun.

Gwen Stacy won the World's Worst Lottery because she wasn't in the front seat of the car, unlike her mother, and her seatbelt was on, unlike her brother. Gwen received harsh whiplash and got knocked out when her head smashed into the back of the driver's seat, but other than that, she was alright. When Gwen came to, she was concussed and had forgotten her last thought. She stumbled out of the vehicle, falling onto the ground and vomited a few times before picking herself back up. She passed out and woke back up several times before she started to register what had happened.

She stood next to the road and gaped at the twisted wreckage of steel and glass. Her younger brother, who was eleven at the time, was lost somewhere between the mess of the two vehicles. It was clear that he had been launched through the windshield and into the oncoming car. There wasn't much left of him that she could recognize. Her mother, much like the driver of the opposing car, was crushed between the steering wheel and front seat. Gwen didn't require a closer glimpse at any of the bodies to realize what had happened to them. They were all dead.

That was only the beginning of the World's Worst Lottery for Gwen Stacy. She was in shock, so she plopped down on the dirty ground next to the crash staring off into the smoky vehicles. It wasn't until a few hours later that another car began approaching the tangled remains. Whoever they were, they pulled up behind the mess and exited their car. Anybody could have found Gwen Stacy and they probably could have done anything to her, but few people were as esoteric as the man who did find her.

"Are you okay?" the thin, pale man looked from Gwen Stacy then to the wreck.

"They're dead," Gwen's empty eyes gazed through him. "My brother, my mother… They're dead."

"What's your name?" the pale man was an opportunistic man.

"Gwen," she answered.

He studied her blood-covered face and her glazed-over eyes. He knew the child was completely disoriented by the crash.

"Do you want to come with me?" the opportunistic man was a devious man.

"Did my father send you?" she asked.

"No, sweetie," the devious man was no liar. "But I can help you if you'll come with me."

"Okay," Gwen lifted herself from the ground and brushed off her dusty knees. "Where are we going?"

"To somewhere where there are lots of doctors like me," he was no liar.

"What about them?" Gwen pointed to the wreckage.

"Sweetie, you know they're dead, right?" he reminded her.

"I know that," she dropped her head for a second. "What happened?"

"Come with me and you'll be okay," the pale man didn't think this was a lie, but it was.

"Okay," she stepped towards him then noticed the accident again. "What happened?"

"We're going to take you to see some doctors," he repeated himself.

"Okay."

It took time, but eventually, Gwen got in the pale man's car. He had to remind her over and over again that he was taking her to a place full of doctors. It was a place full of doctors who could help her and who could make her better. They would make Gwen Stacy better than she had ever been before. Since Gwen Stacy had won the World's Worst Lottery, it took seven years before she was found.

"Gwen, I ask for your cooperation," Dr. Strange pleaded with the young woman. "I can't force you."

Gwen let go of his hand. "Do you at least have something for me to drink?"

"I knew you'd ask," the doctor nodded. "I'm not one to condone your alcoholism, but given the circumstances, I can understand your desire for the relief."

"So, yes?" Gwen shrugged at him.

Stephen removed a small flask from his medical kit.

"That won't be enough," Gwen was disappointed by the reveal. "Remember when I mentioned that I drank an entire bottle of whiskey before?"

"This is baijiu," Stephen lifted the flask in the air. "And this baijiu has a percentage of sixty."

"Yeah," Gwen scratched at her collarbone, "that still isn't enough."

"You're going to have to bear with it," he frowned at her. "You should be grateful that I was so thoughtful to begin with."

"Is that so?" Gwen grabbed the steel flask. "I should be grateful anytime you do something for me?'

"I am about to fix your horrendous self-First Aid," he moved the scissors back near her arm. "And I do have the responsibility of keeping your secret identity exactly that."

"This is precisely why I didn't want to call you," Gwen got up from the bed. "Why are you so intent on making me feel bad?"

"No, Gwen," Stephen knew that despite being a well-spoken individual, he was not one to hold back cynicism. "That was unnecessarily brash of me. I often regret half the words that escape my mouth."

"Because you realize that when you're honest, people just see how much of an asshole you are?"

"What I realize is that I care about how you see me," which was another rarity for the doctor. "I don't want you to assume that I am some horrible, mean individual."

"When we first met, you told me you were incapable of loving anyone except yourself," she reminded him. "You told me that you're an asshole who does shitty things. And I should have listened to your dumb face."

"Yet here we are," he gestured at Gwen's bedroom. "I don't want to be that person to you, Gwen."

"Forget about it," Gwen sat back on the bed. "Let's just get this over with."

"Are you ready?" he looked at Gwen.

"I will be." She opened up the flask and emptied it in its entirety. "Just give it a couple minutes to settle in."

"If you were anyone else," he took the empty flask from her, "I wouldn't have recommended what you just did."

Gwen let out a long breath. "Well doctor, I am the impeccable Spider-Woman."

"So you admit it?" he reached for her arm again.

"Beg your pardon?" she tried to relax when he grabbed her.

"Until this moment, you did not verbally confirm to me that you are the Spider-Woman." He opened the pair of small scissors.

"Have you been waiting for my confession?" she lowered her expression. "Yes, I'm Spider-Woman; you fucking got me. Now what?"

"No, you misunderstand me," he started to cut her poor sutures. "I was just making conversation."

"You're a terrible conversationalist," Gwen cringed as he began to remove the stitches.

"I beg to differ," he argued. "I'm a great conversationalist, but with you… Possibly I am less adept at conversing with someone such as yourself."

"Why is that?" she could feel her arm trembling against Stephen's hand.

"Because you're not one to placate a person." For once in his life, he wasn't treated like a member of elite society. She wasn't concerned with prowess, but instead personality. "I'm used to certain behavior from people when I interact with them, but you offer me no such pleasantries."

"I feel like you used a lot of words to call me a bitch," Gwen carefully watched his hand as he continued to slowly remove her stitching.

"Not at all," a small laugh escaped his mouth. "I wouldn't describe you in that fashion. I would say you're a person who doesn't concern themselves with societal status."

"I don't have patience for people's BS, I'll be honest," Gwen kept her glare on his moving hand. "The second you pretend to be better than everyone else… That's when- Well, that's when I think you're probably just a piece of shit."

Stephen mulled over her words and could not imagine the appropriate response. The two sat in silence as Gwen flinched every few seconds when Stephen would tug thread out from her arm. How he touched her and the way he meticulously moved his hands, left her with a sense of discomfort. She wouldn't have described it as a negative feeling, but it was an unfamiliar feeling. Being so close to someone in these circumstances was bizarrely intimate.

Stephen had finished removing the home-made stitches from Gwen's arm. Blood was trickling from the wounds; some were worse than others. Again, Stephen was impressed by her constitution. He'd seen criminals come through emergency with smaller wounds and bigger exclamations. Obviously, he'd seen worse in his career, but the gunshot wound that Gwen received would be considered serious.

"Now, for the part you've been looking forward to." Stephen gathered stitching from his medical kit. "Are you positive that you've removed all of the pellets?"

"Probably," Gwen shrugged.

"Without an x-ray, there is no way to know for certain. For now, we will have to assume you successfully removed all of the debris." He effortlessly threaded the needle. "Hopefully this will hold longer than what you've already done to yourself. Although from what I can see, you appeared to have correctly disinfected it. That's good."

"Oh, shit," Gwen realized she had done nothing to disinfect her wound earlier. "I didn't do… I just pulled the bullets out and sewed them up."

"Is that so?" Stephen reached for a small towel in his bag and placed it under her arm. "What did you use to remove the pellets?"

"Uh, um," Gwen looked down at her arm. "I tried tweezers; that didn't work. So I got a knife and pair of pliers…"

"Did you at least disinfect the tools you were using?" he had a suspicion the answer would be no to that as well.

"I've never been shot before." Imagine that, she thought. Of all things, imagine that Spider-Woman died from an infection?

"I don't see any signs of infection," he closely examined her arm. "You should be grateful. It seems that luck is another superpower you possess."

"If only I had a brain," she smiled inwardly. She was starting to feel the effects of the baijiu.

"Let's get this over with so you can get some rest," he forgave her foolishness. After all, how many humans can claim to successful self-surgery on the level that she had achieved?

"Righto," she nodded with her head down. "My favorite part."

"Like peeling off a bandage," he held up the treaded needle, "you just need to get it over with."

"Except this bandage is you stabbing me over and over again with a tiny needle," she lightly giggled to herself. "So not like a bandage at all."

He pushed the needle through her flesh and he felt the muscles in her arm flex.

"Ow," she said flatly. "That hurts."

"That isn't about to change," he continued. "I'm sorry."

"You say sorry a lot," she slumped her shoulder to lean her forehead against his shoulder.

"I often have a lot to say sorry about."

After the day of the accident, Gwen Stacy came home six years and eleven months later. She wandered through the Pachaug State Forest before finding her way back to the location of the original accident. Obviously, there was nothing to find there. She stood at the side of the road imagining the scene from seven years ago. It wasn't long before someone in a vehicle spotted her and pulled over.

A young woman, possibly only a few years older than Gwen Stacy, exited the car. "Are you okay?" she called out to Gwen.

"I'm lost," Gwen turned to the woman. "I need to get back home."

The young woman studied Gwen's stiff posture. From what she could tell, Gwen Stacy seemed alright. Although, she did think it was odd for Gwen to be wearing a long sleeve shirt and warm jogging pants despite the 90-degree weather.

"Where do you live?" the woman asked.

"Forest Hills. In Queens." Gwen stared blankly at the woman. She didn't seem like a bad person to Gwen; she seemed alright.

"That's almost a three-hour drive from here," the woman replied. "And I'm not even going in that direction. I can take you to Warwick, though."

"I need to go home," Gwen repeated. "My dad is probably waiting for me. He probably wants to know where I've been."

"Well," the woman tilted her head and rubbed at her brow. "I'm sorry, but I can't take you there."

"Please," Gwen's eyes swelled with tears. "You don't understand. I've been gone for seven years; he probably thinks I'm dead."

"Um, well," the woman pulled her phone from her back pocket. "We can give him a call and he can pick you up somewhere; how about that?"

"Please," Gwen begged the woman as tears poured from her face. "I haven't seen him in seven years. I don't know if even lives in Queens; I don't know if he's even alive; I don't know… Please, take me back home."

"Ge- Get in my car," the woman couldn't bear the distress in the girl's voice. "I'll get you home, okay? And if he isn't there, we'll figure it out, okay?'

"Okay," Gwen gave the woman a tiny nod. "Thank you."

When the kind woman finally got Gwen home, George Stacy was waiting; he was always waiting. He had fallen asleep on the couch that afternoon after finishing days of endless work. Work, work, work; it was all he ever did. Worked blocked out the memories of his lost wife and children and it blocked the pain. But every day, he waited for Gwen to come home.

Gwen rang the doorbell. She was the last person George expected to see, but the first person he'd want to see. When George Stacy answered his door on that sweltering summer day, his faith was restored.

"Dad?" Gwen recognized her father through the years he'd aged and beard he'd grown. "It's Gwen."

"Gwen?" her name barely escaped his mouth. Her messy hair had been cut to just above her shoulders and her face was only faintly recognizable to him. If he had seen her wandering down the streets of New York, he wouldn't have realized it was his own daughter. But he knew this was his daughter.

The thoughtful woman who had driven Gwen Stacy one-hundred and fifty miles across the state, stared out her car window at the two. She watched the older gentleman embrace the young Gwen Stacy and it became apparent that he was Gwen's father. Satisfied that the young girl was going to be alright, the stranger headed back to her original destination.

"Who was that?" George noticed the vehicle leave.

"She found me near Pachaug…" Gwen was saddened by the woman's sudden departure. "I never got to thank her."

"Gwen…" tears crept into George's eyes. "Where have you been all these years?"

"I don't- I don't-" Gwen hugged him again. "I don't know, dad. I can't remember." But Gwen had remembered all of those days. Gwen knew that she could never tell a soul what had happened during those seven years of torture.

When Gwen Stacy woke up Friday morning to the rising sun, the doctor was gone. She figured that at some point during his medical assistance, she passed out. Whether or not it was because of the pain, her being tired, or both, she was unsure. She examined her professionally cleaned and bandaged arm. Her wounds were already feeling better than they had last night.

Gwen Stacy picked up her phone to find another text from the doctor which read, "Try not to strain yourself. I would prefer if next time we met it was under more pleasant circumstances."

For a single moment, Gwen thought she should thank him. Thanking him would have been the right thing to do; the polite thing to do. However, Gwen couldn't muster the will to thank him. She was conflicted when it came to the doctor. He had shown her support and kindness, but he had the innate ability to be an unnecessary asshole.

Gwen wasn't in the mood to live her life; she wasn't in the mood to do anything. Problem was, was that she had responsibilities. She had to contact Oscorp and come up with some sort of excuse for her disappearance yesterday. She also had to contact Detective Terry Lee who was undoubtedly peeved at her to no end right now. If only Gwen could melt into her bed like an ice-cream cone on a hot summer day.

She picked her burner phone off from the edge of her mattress. There were seventeen missed calls from the only number that ever called her. Seventeen missed calls from one immensely pissed off NYC officer. She needed to get her priorities lined up, so she decided it was pertinent to call Oscorp first. The detective would have to wait.

Gwen Stacy explained to her boss that she was attacked by a dog yesterday morning and had to go to the emergency room. She further added that she didn't have access to her phone at the time. It felt like a rather lame and pathetic excuse, but when she came back to work on Monday, it wouldn't be hard to prove. You could easily argue that something had mauled her when you considered the bandage that covered her entire arm.

It was time to bite the bullet and give Detective Lee a call. She prepared herself for the earful that she was about the receive.

"Have you seen the news?" were the first words the detective spoke to Gwen when she called him. Surprisingly to her, his tone was perfectly calm.

"Ah well, you know the media is controlled by liberal snowflakes," she joked. "And you know I can't stand propaganda."

"Maybe you should take a look," he flatly answered.

"What's the point in that?" Gwen chimed at him. "Isn't that what you're for? To explain to me shit I couldn't care less about?"

"I want to hear your side of the story first," he wasn't impressed by her jesting. "I want an explanation for what happened yesterday morning."

"I found Braden," Gwen started. "I caught the squirrelly little bastard in my webs and then his psycho girlfriend pulled a shotgun on me."

"And then what?"

"And then, and then," Gwen decided ahead of time that she wouldn't mention getting shot herself. "I tried to stop her, but oh boy, she was an eager beaver. I dodged the bullet, literally, but Braden boy didn't. Probably related to him being stuck to the floor and all…"

"Spi," a sharpness entered Lee's tone. "This isn't a fucking joke. A man is dead and the blame is being placed on the not-so-amazing Spider-Woman."

"I'm never surprised," she sighed over the phone. "But it wasn't my fault."

"I don't think you understand, Spi," Lee tried to control his anger. "Angie Miles said that you shot him. She claims that after you webbed him to the floor you picked up his shotgun and shot him point-blank."

"Fucksake…" Gwen suppressed her desire to scream at the world. "Well, sir, she's a liar if I ever met one. Her word against mine."

"No, Spi," he felt that she just wasn't getting the point. "It's her word against no ones. Unless you plan on testifying in a court that Angie was the one who pulled the trigger. I don't think you understand the severity of your situation right now."

"I can take a guess," Gwen wasn't a fool, but she needed to keep up appearances with the detective. Spider-Woman didn't take anything seriously; it was her modus operandi. "But I didn't do it. You know I'm morally as straight as an arrow."

"What I know," Lee slowly exhaled. "What I know is that Spider-Woman has a habit of sending criminals to the ICU. So when someone accuses her of murder, it doesn't seem like that much of a stretch."

"I try to play nice," and for the most part this was true. Though, Gwen still struggled to control her spider strength. Sometimes, may more often than not, she'd end up hitting a baddie much harder than intended. "Can't really feel guilty about that, though…"

"Spi, there's a warrant out for your arrest," Lee informed her. "And here's the thing, I can't control what other officers are going to do when they find you. They're gonna try to shoot you down, Spi."

"Everything comes full circle, eh?" Gwen had been in the exact same situation before. "Why am I not surprised that the dipshit NYPD would take the word of a psycho junky over the FNSW?"

"Probably because this reminds them of something that happened before," Lee grunted.

"And just like I didn't kill Peter Parker, I didn't kill Braden Murdering Asshole Groves."

"I believe you, Spi," he lowered his tone. "In case you were wondering. I know you didn't kill this guy. I would have never sent you after him if I thought you were going to kill him."

"Aww, thanks," Gwen replied sarcastically. "That's the most important thing to me."

"You never cease to amaze me," and he did smile at himself when he said it. "I'm never surprised to hear that you don't take anything seriously."

"Is that, is that happiness I hear in your voice?" she continued to joke. "You should probably be taking this more seriously, detective. It is your job after all."

"I think it would be best if you laid low for a while," what he wanted to say was that she should lay low forever. He knew Spider-Woman wasn't a killer and the last thing he wanted to see was her body in a morgue because she was wrongfully accused of a crime. "I don't want to see anything bad happen to you."

"Wow, aren't you so sweet? If I didn't know any better, I'd say you have a crush on the little spider."

"No, I-" he felt that her words pushed him in an awkward corner. He liked her, without a doubt. He cared for her, without a doubt. "I just think… I think it's better for everyone in New York if Spider-Woman stays alive."

"Especially for my own sake," her jokes were never ending with Lee. "But the Spider-Woman doesn't take time off. People need to see my beautiful face. Ah well, you know what I mean. Beautiful mask."

"I swear, Spi, you're going to give me a heart attack one day; probably one day soon."

"Don't worry about me," her eyes shifted to her non-spidey phone as it began chiming and vibrating. "Gotta go; take it easy, Lee," she said as she hung up the phone.

Mary Jane had her heart set on talking to Gwen Stacy that day. She needed to talk to Gwen Stacy.


	11. Chapter 11: Little Fish

What you do to yourself; what you make of yourself, well that's up to you, isn't it? Often we like to believe that we didn't have a choice or a say in the matter, but that's a lie. We say we had no choice in order to comfort ourselves in the ones we feel we must make. But you have to, you must; these are empty reasons for being. Ultimately, there is always a way out. You can choose not to choose. You can or you won't.

That Friday morning after Gwen's talk with Detective Lee, she threw MJ a text. It had been a few days since the two of them had spoken and Gwen wasn't sure if she could handle MJ right now. But Gwen was MJ's best friend and the longer you put things off… Well, the longer you put anything off, the harder it becomes. So, despite the guilt and anxiety that Gwen was feeling, she agreed to meet MJ at that stupid Italian café.

On that day, when Gwen left her house she saw the cloudless sky burning bright. But even with the rain gone and the sun shining, an ominous cloud still drifted over Gwen's head. Do you ever get a bad feeling that ends up lasting a lifetime, she passively wondered?

As Gwen approached the café, she could see that MJ had already found a place to sit. Mary Jane seemed so perky and alive. It was amazing that she could wear such a happy expression after what she had gone through. Mary Jane was certainly a resilient creature if Gwen had ever met one.

"MJ," Gwen spoke as she sat next to her best friend.

"I wasn't sure at first," MJ studied the slick coffee house, "but I think I really like this place. You know?"

"I don't know," Gwen didn't agree. "But I don't think you invited me here to talk about how much you like it."

"Look," MJ tapped her finger against her bottom lip in thought. "I've met someone."

"That's it?" It wasn't the conversation starter that Gwen was expecting. "Last time we talked, it was rough and then… And then you kind of brushed it off because I got sick-"

"-Speaking of," MJ interrupted Gwen. "You look a bit sick; are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, it's just a cold," Gwen blew past MJ's observation. "What I was saying, is… I quit the band and I said some awful things to you MJ. I said things I shouldn't have said."

"Gwen," MJ shrugged. "It's kinda your thing? You get mad and then we argue and then we get over it. People fight and say mean things; it's okay."

"No it's, no it's not okay," Gwen expected MJ to be angry with her. "I'm a piece of shit to you MJ, I can't believe… I can't believe you put up with me."

"Well," MJ let out a sad minuscule noise. "Here's the thing, Gwen. I know what it's like to have a shitty life and I know what it's like to be angry about it. I'm not gonna… I'm not gonna abandon you because of it. We gotta stick together."

"There are so many things in life I don't deserve, and you're one of them." Gwen could feel that little grey cloud haunting her.

"Gwen, that's not true," MJ smiled. "We're perfect for each other. Broken people who know what it's like to be broken."

Broken.

A moment of silence passed between the two young women before MJ finally continued, "So… I was saying before…"

"Right," Gwen lifted her solemn gaze. "You met someone. That's what you want to talk about?"

"Well, I don't know," MJ ran her finger around the lip of her coffee mug. "If you're not in the mood for talking-

"No, no, that's not it, MJ," Gwen raised a hand. "Please, I'm here for you. Talk to me."

"So, I met this guy a few days ago," MJ's tone lifted.

"Mhmm," Gwen strained.

"Gwen, if you don't want to talk about it," MJ looked away from her friend.

"See I'm- I, uh," Gwen shook her head. "I just find it kind of funny that I haven't seen you for like three days, and then the first thing you tell me is that you've met a guy. You do this a lot, MJ."

"I know I do," a curl formed that the edge of MJ's mouth. "I know I always say the same thing and you always say the same thing. But you're really good at sussing out d-bags. And I like this guy, and…"

"Where'd you even meet him, MJ?" Gwen was never amazed by how quickly MJ could attract the opposite sex, and sometimes the same sex. Though, Gwen wasn't sure if it was a curse or a blessing.

"I met him here, Gwen," MJ pointed the table behind them. "That guy in the blue suit who was sitting there. You know, he bought me a drink?"

"That guy?" Gwen figured all MJ wanted out of that exchange was a free drink.

"Yeah," MJ's face grew brighter. "We talked on the phone a couple of times since and he seems great, but…"

"But?" there's always a but, Gwen thought.

"You told me that Keith was probably going to break my heart," MJ folded her hands over her chest. "Then you were right about him. I haven't dated a decent guy since Peter and I'm just done with asshats. You told me that Peter was amazing, that I should hold onto him forever. And if I could I would have."

"MJ," Gwen's face tightened at the mention of Peter's name.

"I'm just saying, you don't take shit," MJ glanced out the café window. "You're the master of red flags, you know one when you see one."

"I, uh, wouldn't be too sure about that MJ." Gwen pushed away every man she met; well-intended or not. Strange on the other hand; she wasn't sure about Strange. "I don't know if I have enough experience with relationships to be the judge of it."

"Help me out," MJ pleaded to her friend. "I just want you to meet him and give me your honest opinion about him."

"I hate this idea," Gwen frowned. "What's your plan even?"

"I dunno," MJ assumed Gwen would have a plan. "He wants to take me out for dinner sometime soon. Maybe like, you could come along?"

"What?" Gwen let out a faint squeak. "So I'll be a chaperone? A third wheel? That's so awkward, MJ. I'm not going to do that."

"It would be a lot easier if you had a boyfriend or girlfriend or whatever," MJ's eyes narrowed. "I mean, what even are you into, Gwen?"

Gwen turned her head to let out a labored sigh before responding, "Does it matter, MJ?"

"Just curious," MJ scrunched her shoulders. "It's rude to just assume you're into guys, right?"

"I'm –I haven't thought about it," Gwen was always preoccupied with something else. "I didn't have the kind of adolescence where you get to figure that out."

"You have to have some idea," MJ's curiosity demanded to be met. "Like you've had to have felt something for someone at some point."

Gwen thought about Peter. "Can we get back to your plan?"

"I can get you a date, and I know lots of guys," MJ stared upwards in thought. "If it's just for one night it doesn't really matter that much, but it could be like a double date thing."

"Oh my god, MJ," Gwen flopped her head back. "This sounds like a ridiculous plan."

"Oh, come on. You gotta live a little, Gwen. I need your help and nothing's going to come of it."

"I don't want to go out on a date with one of your rejects, MJ," Gwen rolled her eyes. "It's going to seem like some sort of gross, fucked-up pity date, and I don't want that."

"I know what to do," MJ's eyes went wide. "What about Stephen? He seems to like you, right?"

"Uh," Gwen rubbed at the back of her neck. "I don't know, I guess I feel like- he did already ask to take me out for dinner…"

"Are you serious?" MJ was undeniably excited by Gwen's words.

"I mean, I didn't say yes or anything," Gwen was afraid about what that situation might look like. "I don't know if that's a good idea either."

"So you're not going to help me out?"

"I don't want you dating some asshole and if what I think is that important to you…" Gwen was already feeling regret. "Sure, I'll do it."

"Oh, wow, Gwen," MJ didn't actually believe Gwen was going to agree with her terms. "I'll set something up and let you know. This is very exciting."

"Don't bunch your panties up, MJ," Gwen waved at her.

Braden Groves was dead and Spider-Woman was once again considered a murderer. When Angie shot him, everything stood still. What was Gwen supposed to do about that? How was Gwen supposed to save anyone? She had hurt people before, and sometimes badly, but seeing someone die… Peter died. Braden died. But it was the way Braden died that stuck in her mind. There was nothing he could do and there was no way he was going to survive thanks to the Spider-Woman.

Spider-Woman was hanging upside down on a lamppost when she caught Detective Lee's attention.

"Jesus Christ," much to the dismay of Lee, she almost scared the shit out of him. "Spi?" if it wasn't for the webbing he wouldn't have recognized her.

"That's me," she swayed from her webbing.

"What are you wearing?" It was obvious to him that she wasn't in her traditional pink, black, and white outfit.

"I'm laying low," she responded. Gwen's only Spider-Woman costume was beyond repair after being torn up by the stray shotgun pellets. So, Gwen came up with the best outfit she could which consisted of black yoga pants, a black zip-up, and a thin black scarf over her head. Covering her head is what concerned her the most. Gwen's short blonde hair wasn't the most popular hairstyle in town, thus she felt the need to cover it. She didn't own a balaclava nor did she want to look like a criminal, so she tied the scarf around the top of her head.

"Can you even see in that?" Lee squinted at her.

"For all you know I'm blind," which was obviously a lie and the scarf was thin enough that she didn't have a problem seeing through it. "The Blind-Spider. That sounds a lot cooler than Spider-Woman."

"I told you that one way or another, you were gonna give me a heart attack," he pointed at the Spider-Woman who rocked on her webbing a few feet away. He often wondered how she was always able to find him when she wanted something. On this occasion, he had gone for a midnight jog through NYC's cool spring evening.

"Good thing you exercise," she remarked. "Shady neighborhood though; you should be more careful."

"I think I got it," he walked around the prowling Spider in search of somewhere to rest.

"Got any goods?" she said as she dropped down behind him. "I've been waiting for you to call me and with bated breath."

"Didn't I just tell you Friday morning to lay low?" he kept walking.

"Didn't I just say I was?" she jumped in front of him.

"People are still gonna figure out you're the Spider-Woman," he made a point of walking around her again. "You have a life, right? Why don't you go be a normal person for a few days?"

"No fun in normal," she smiled and this time Lee could see her expression.

Lee let out a deep breath and wiped some sweat from his brow. "You're gonna get yourself killed. And I don't wanna be the one to scrape your crushed ass off the sidewalk."

"I have an idea," Gwen raised a finger. "If you can beat me in an arm-wrestling match, I'll stay off the streets for a few days."

"No deal," Lee ultimately found the bench he was looking for. "I have a feeling that contest would end with me in the hospital."

"You think I'd go that easy?" she smirked. "I'd put you in the grave, son."

"You threatening me?" he lowered himself on the bench. "Because everyone thinks you're a murderer."

"Alas, jokes aside," she flipped backward to land on the bench next to Lee. "Have anything for me?"

"Got a hit on three of your numbers," Lee answered. "Pulled whatever we had on the girl that the lizard killed, but nothing stood out."

"I'll be the judge of that. What'd you find out about the numbers?"

"Got names," the detective leaned onto his elbows.

"Tell me," Spider-Woman bluntly demanded.

"I don't have the info on me," he rubbed his face into the crook of his elbow. "Got it all back at my apartment."

"Fabulous," Gwen got off the bench. "Text me the stuff; even the lady. I'll see what's up."

Lee raised his head at the smiling woman and offered her an expression of confusion. "You don't seem bothered by what happened with Braden Groves."

"What can you do," it wasn't Spider-Woman's responsibility to seem bothered by anything; that was Gwen Stacy's burden.

"That's it?" He was amazed by her resolve. "Some guy takes a shotgun point-blank in front of you, and that's all you have to say? What can you do?"

"How should a react?"

"I dunno, maybe upset?!" he spat at her.

"You're missing what I'm supposed to be and who I am," Gwen showed him a grin. "I'm Spider-Woman. I'm here to be tough for those who can't protect themselves."

"Is Spider-Woman… Is that all just an act?"

"What do you think?" her words echoed through his mind. What do you think? Those weren't Spider-Woman's words; those were the words of the woman behind the mask.

Franklin Roscoe, Stafford Hollands, and Benito Howse. Those three names had been associated with three of the numbers that Gwen Stacy had found on the Miller Twin's phone. One of the names, Benito Howse, was also the man who had called the boy's phone when Spider-Woman picked up. He was searching for the Twins and had threatened them both. If anyone was involved in NYC's underground human trafficking ring, Gwen was sure it was Benito Howse.

Benito wasn't a convicted criminal, but he had been charged several times in the past. Conveniently, anytime Benito ended up in the court of law, one of two things would transpire. Option one: If someone pressed charges against him, they would magically change their mind before the jury was out. Option two: If it was a criminal charge, the jury would always find Benito not guilty. The man had been charged with fraud, stealing, solicitation, incitement, and possession to name a few. But little Benito, he always found a way out.

Mr. Howse was the proud owner of three-night clubs in the New York area. He was an honest and hardworking businessman, or so he would say. Considering everything Benito had been charged for in the past, it was obvious to Gwen that the night club owner shtick was a cover-up. The question was, what exactly was he covering up?

The obvious answer was Benito Howse's involvement with human trafficking in New York. Benito had been lucky so far with his business prospects and courtroom acquittals, but he had yet to have the pleasure of meeting the Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Woman. In Benito's case, he would discover that she was the Not-So Friendly Spider.

Before Gwen hit the clubs, she had gone home to remove her temporary Spider disguise. As it turns out, a human being fully clad in black with a covered face was far from discrete. People called that kind of behavior suspicious, so she had to blend in. She put on a long-sleeve blouse and tossed some make-up across her face; it was the minimal effort she could apply. Gwen's plan was to sneak into each club as the Invisible Woman then search each club as the Non-Invisible Woman.

When Gwen Stacy located Benito, he was at the third and final club that she had checked. It was far past two in the morning and the bouncers were scooping out the few last patrons who refused to let the night end. Gwen wasn't sure if it was better or worse to interrogate Benito in a full or empty club. Oh well, only time would tell.

What Gwen found particularly annoying about Benito is that he wasn't alone in the club. Yes, the bouncers had thrown out the last of the night's drunkards, but Benito relaxed in his neon orange VIP area with two young girls. The two girls were very young, too young.

Ahead of revealing her visage to Benito, Gwen wrapped her black scarf around her head. She was well aware that it was going to look ridiculous, but she was currently facing two problems. First, as mentioned before, Gwen could only hold her invisibility for a limited time. Second, she obviously couldn't let Benito see her face. So, with both of those items in mind, she wore the stupid scarf.

Gwen watched Benito laugh and laugh while he fondled the two young girls on his faux fur couch. Maybe it was real fur, who knows. It was a disgusting looking piece of furniture and a poor choice for a place of drinking and copulation. Gwen could imagine what that white, shaggy piece of nasty must have looked under a black light.

"Benito Howse?" Without further ado, Gwen unveiled her masked self.

"The fuck?" he let go of one of the half-naked girls.

"This image," Gwen wiggled her finger in a circular motion, "Is going to scar me for life." Gwen was specifically referring to Benito himself. He wasn't a fit man, or a young man, or a man with much hair on his head. Undoubtedly, these are all superficial observations of the human, but he didn't have a beautiful personality either. His greasy personality was reflected in his greasy appearance. And Gwen meant that he was literally greasy in appearance; as in, it looked like someone sprayed a can of Pam all over his body.

"What kind of fucking clown are you?" he pushed the young girls aside and stood up from his matted couch.

"The funniest kind," Gwen smiled. "I'm a real jester."

"Did Frankie send you?" he raised a brow at her.

"He didn't," Gwen pointed at him. "But it's good to know you two are friends."

"Is this one of those sexgrams?" he began to sidle around the large, round glass table that sat in front of his questionable taste of a couch. "How old are you?"

"Gross," Gwen made a disgusted face to go along with her remark. "I'm probably too old for you by the looks of it."

"I'm not gonna say no to a birthday gift," he continued to move around the table.

"It's not even your birthday," she recalled the DOB associated with Howse was someday in December.

"Early birthday present," he wouldn't stop moving closer to her.

"Here's the thing," Gwen lifted her hand in his direction. "I have some questions for you."

"Ask away, doll," he kept advancing despite Gwen's gesture. "Imma open book."

"You step any closer to me and I'm going to knock you out," Gwen threatened him with a pointed finger.

"Aww, little doll," he responded to her with a tone you'd use on a child. "You afraid of harmless me?"

"Ha!" she took a step back while opening up her arms. "No, but you'll be afraid of me."

"I dunno how you got in 'er, but I'll say this much," he gestured to the room's only entrance which was a veil of purple drapery, "I got two guards out there and I got more than two hundred pounds on you. So how is it you gonna scare me?"

Gwen glanced over at the two girls who watched their conversation in silence. The girls didn't look happy and they didn't look like they wanted to be there.

"Don't make me embarrass you in front of your friends here," Gwen nodded at the girls. "How about you let them leave and this can be a private conversation between you and me?"

"I doubt you can show 'em anything they haven't seen, doll," he roared at his own joke.

"Have they seen you break all the bones in your arm?"

"What is your problem?" he laughed at her again. "Are you tryna get yourself killed? You know what? I think I've 'ad enough of you tonight, doll."

Benito walked towards the purple curtain and Gwen politely stepped out of his way when he did so. It was clear that Benito was retrieving his two body/security guards from outside the room. When Gwen passed them earlier, she wasn't impressed by what she saw. They were fairly large men, both wide and tall, and they both carried a pistol and a club, but she knew they were all show. They were superficial dudes who could push off a few junkies here and there; however, she doubted they were trained in any combat.

Five seconds later, Benito came back in the room with his big boys. "Get her the fuck out of here," he nonchalantly commanded the two.

One of the guards, the bigger man with a deep accent that probably came from somewhere in Africa, held out his hand to Gwen. "Let's go," he spoke in his booming voice.

"Not without a fight," she tilted her head.

Spider-Woman swiftly placed her hand on the big man's shoulder and springboarded over his head to get behind him. She turned her arm over while pulling her fist back before striking the big fella in the lower spine. This not-so-ninja move was enough to make the big man howl in torment and reach behind himself to caress the terrible bruise-to-be. Gwen quickly hopped up to give him another solid blow in the back, but this time with the bottom of her foot. He fell face-first to the ground making the iconic slapping noise that always caused Gwen to internally cringe. For good measure, she webbed the big guy to the floor. At the time, Gwen didn't acknowledge the expression of terror on Benito's face as sweat began dripping from his pores.

Presently, guard number two decided it was his time to shine. The first and last mistake he made was pulling a gun on the anti-gun superhero. She launched her webbing at his pistol and yanked it out of his hand. The gun whizzed behind Gwen with a force strong enough to penetrate the drywall. No one was getting that gun back. With both hands, Gwen shot her webbing at guard two's chest and roped him in close. She used the leverage of the tug and the exertion of another short leap to launch her knee into the bottom of his chin. She let his limp body slide to the floor and for good measure webbed him down, too.

The two young girls who were curled on the couch watched Gwen's parley in amazement. Gwen glanced at the young girls and couldn't help but notice the small grins that grew on their mouths. It would be hard for Gwen to deny the satisfaction she felt in that moment. No guns fired, no death, maybe a bit of pain, but a whole lot of heroism.

"There," Gwen said with a sigh and a clap of her hands. "So, you going to answer my questions?"


	12. Chapter 12: If the Dam Breaks

Disclaimer: Song lyrics are used in this chapter. I'll put the citation here for them.

Steve Kilbey, Karin Jansson (1998). Under the Milky Way [Recorded by The Church]. On _Starfish _[vinyl] Location: Los Angeles. (1987)  
The Whiskey Charmers (2012). Straight and Narrow [Recorder by The Whiskey Charmers]. On _The Whiskey Charmers [CD] _

* * *

The world can be a strange and wild place. Often we are left in amazement over the smallest things or the biggest things. There are things so big, so unbelievable, that we construct a purpose behind them using our imaginations. We always find a way to explain what we can't understand. All questions must be answered; nothing can be left unknown. And most of the time, you're asking the wrong questions. Most of the time, you focus on the meaningless.

"If I don't like your answers, I'm going to start snapping your fingers," Spider-Woman crossed her arms at the panicking Benito. "Watch what you say."

Benito collapsed into an armchair located next to his disgusting couch. "Fucking, shit," he gasped for air. "I can't tell you anything… I swore, I fucking swore."

"I get it," Spider-Woman rolled her eyes at him. "You tell me and you'll be a dead man. Or something along the lines of, you can't imagine what they'll do to me. I've heard it all at this point."

"I, I," Benito was trying to fend off an impending panic attack, "I can't tell you anything."

Gwen took a single, precise step toward Benito.

"Oh, please, no," he started crying. Gwen almost couldn't believe how pathetic he was acting.

She frowned and turned her glare to the young girls. "Do you two have somewhere to go?" she wondered.

They both rapidly nodded and stumbled off the couch. The girls clasped at each other and carried themselves out of that room as fast as they could move.

Gwen turned back to Benito and asked, "Who were those girls? I'm going to doubt they have anything to do with your trafficking business considering the fact that they were white."

"I don't, I don't have any-"

"-Don't lie to me!" Gwen shouted at him which was more to scare him than anything.

"Please, God," he bowed his head and continued to whimper. "I can't tell you 'nything. I won't do it."

"Fuck," Gwen whispered to herself. She hated making good on her threats.

"They'll kill me," he sobbed into his palms. "They'll fucking kill me."

"Here's the deal," Gwen moved another foot toward Benito. "They'll kill you, but I'll make it so you'll wish you were dead."

He raised his chin to glower at her, "You can't do anything worse to me!"

"Is that so?" One more step forward. "I haven't had the chance yet."

"What kind of fucking hero tortures people, huh?" he narrowed his eyes. "I know you're the fucking Spider-Woman. You're a fucking murderer, not a hero!"

"Oh no, you found me out," Gwen pretended to be surprised. "So, if you think I'm a murderer, you think I won't kill you, too?"

"Wha?" Benito hadn't considered that she would. "No, you won't fuckin' do that."

"I'll fuckin' do, what I got to do," she moved another foot forward and at this point, Gwen was only two more steps away from being able to touch him. "But I'll be nice. Give me your phone."

"What? No -I -why?" his phone was his life; everyone's phone was their life. "I ain't gonna do it."

Gwen looked at the prone guards and shrugged at Benito, "I'll just knock you out and take it."

"No wait, I'll say…" Benito weighed his options. "What if I just accidentally say somethin' that might help you out?"

"Wow," Gwen slowly nodded at him. "I threaten to kill you; no budge. I threaten to take your phone; you budge? You know I could just take it from your dead body, right?"

"You see what's on my phone and I'm still alive… Well, maybe I dun want that."

"You're an idiot," Gwen almost laughed at him, "and now I really want your phone."

"But, no, wait!" he flailed in her direction. "There's stuff that you might wanna know that isn't on my phone."

"But," Spider-Woman stepped forward once more and crossed her arms, "whatever is on your phone is better."

"No, it ain't, I swear it… it's just…" he bowed his head before he continued. "There's personal stuff on there."

"Jeez," she sighed at the ceiling. "I don't want to think about what the fuck is on your phone. So, I won't take it and you'll tell me whatever I want to hear."

"I mean I won't tell you wha-"

Spider-Woman took her last step forward and backhanded Benito to the floor. "You'll tell me what I want."

Benito desperately held his shaking hands in front of his face. "Whatever you want!" he whimpered.

"Okay," Gwen latched onto his shirt collar and threw him back to his seat. "First question: What is your involvement with these foreign girls being trafficked. And I hate repeating myself, FYI."

Through his tears and swollen cheek, he responded to Spider-Woman, "I dun have a lot to do with it. Sometimes costumers come to the club and the girls… Sometimes, but not often, like, they sell the girls here. I just, I don't get involved."

"Who?" Gwen shrugged. "Who are they?"

"Frankie Roscoe, he brings them in," he flinched for no reason.

"That's not very exciting," she already had Franklin's information. "You're not involved, but you two are friends?"

"I mean, kinda," he kept scrunching his shoulders in fear of her. "We talk sometimes."

"You familiar with the Miller Twins?" she observed Benito's nostrils flare when she mentioned their names. "You remember the last call you made to them?"

"Frankie said they had some girls they were suppose' to bring by, but they never showed." Benito decided it was time to make eye contact with the hero, not that he could see her eyes. "I called them and told em Frankie was gonna fucking murder them."

"Frankie? Is that exactly what you said? You said that Frankie was going to kill them?"

"Yeah, yeah," his eyes shifted away from her. "I told em that Frankie was gonna want them dead."

"Well, you never mentioned Frankie," Gwen crouched down to Benito's level. "You said that he's going to want you dead when we find you. So are you we, and Frankie's him?"

"Yeah, whatever," he leaned away from Spider-Woman. "I don't fucking remember what I said a goddamn week ago."

"You work for someone; there's always someone," she straightened herself out. "Tell me who it is."

"I never met him; I don't know his name," Benito admitted.

"You work for the Invisible Man? Come on; there's no way this guy doesn't have a name."

"Well we, we have a name for him," Benito rubbed at his aching face and squinted at Spider-Woman. "It isn't his name, but we're not supposed to say it."

"I'm waiting," she tapped her foot on the ground. "I have no patience."

"Kingpin!" he blurted out the name. "Everyone calls him Kingpin. I dunno who the fuck he is though. He just pays me to shut up about the girls, that's all. Frankie knows more than me."

"That's what I like to hear," Gwen gave Benito a solid pat on the shoulder which he violently flinched at. "Guess you might as well tell your friend Frankie that I'm coming for him."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" he held his arm as if she had done him more damage. "The second I say something, I'm a dead man."

"That's a shame," Gwen turned to the purple curtain. "I was hoping he'd prepare some reinforcements for me, but oh well."

"You- You shouldn't-" Benito stood up before Gwen left, "-you shouldn't mess with the Kingpin. People who mess with the Kingpin; they disappear. I'm sure he's been praying for an excuse to squash you, little doll."

"Then shall I be his Lord and savior," Spider-Woman placed her palms together and looked to the ceiling. "For I have answered his prayers."

Mary Jane felt good about her life; she was excited to be alive! It had been so long since she'd felt so keen on continuing her existence. Maybe you could say things were still a bit rocky with Gwen, and maybe you could say she still missed Peter, and maybe you could say that there were bad things going on around the world, but Mary Jane felt good. There was just this little feeling MJ had on the inside of herself; it was the feeling that her life was improving.

If you asked Gwen Stacy about it, she would tell you it was because of a man. Mary Jane had the habit of getting prematurely excited about her relationship prospects. If you asked Gwen Stacy about it, she would say that Mary Jane was too obsessed with men. It was all sunshine and lollipops and rainbows when Mary Jane had a man at her side, but when the inevitable happened... Well, when that happened, Mary Jane couldn't find her meaning in the world.

"I know it is really short notice, but he wants to go out tonight, Gwen," MJ couldn't keep the excitement out of her tone when she called Gwen that morning.

"Uh, MJ," Gwen stuttered on the other line. "You know I do Cover Nights at Kelsey's on Sundays. I've been doing it for over four months now."

"I didn't forget!" But MJ did forget. "We can all come see you and have dinner after. It'll be fun."

"No, MJ. It'll be fucking embarrassing."

"You're right, you are a terrible singer," Mary Jane cracked a joke; she really was in a good mood.

"Ha, ha, you're so funny," Gwen chimed sarcastically. "It'll be embarrassing because I'll have to play in front of people I know. Playing in front of strangers is no problem."

"I don't see what the problem is; you play in front of me all the time."

"Yeah, MJ, the drums," Gwen sighed. "I never sang in the Mary Janes."

"For good reason," MJ made another joke. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding. Gwen, who cares? You're a good musician and people don't even expect much from those Cover Nights. It's basically fancy karaoke."

"I feel so much better now," Gwen's tone became caustic.

"I'm just kidding, Gwen," MJ tried not to laugh, but failed to succeed. "Please, I'd love to come see you play. It'd be fun. Seriously, Gwen. You're talented and beautiful and it'll be wonderful."

"I have the suspicion that you're not going to stop berating me until I agree to your terms," Gwen let out a faint groan. "It's like you hold people hostage with your perky attitude."

"You just like being a downer," MJ remarked. "And I don't want you getting away with it."

"Jeez, MJ," Gwen wasn't in the mood for putting up a fight with MJ. "Fine, whatever, come. Show starts at 6 and goes until 7:30."

"Perfect!" MJ's excitement was palpable. "This is going to be so much fun."

Gwen Stacy doubted that.

_Sometimes when this place gets kind of empty  
Sound of their breath fades with the light  
I think about the loveless fascination  
Under the Milky Way tonight_

_Lower the curtain down on Memphis  
Lower the curtain down all right  
I got no time for private consultation  
Under the Milky Way tonight_

_Wish I knew what you were looking for  
Might have known what you would find_

_And it's something quite peculiar  
Something shimmering and white  
It leads you here despite your destination  
Under the Milky Way tonight_

_Wish I knew what you were looking for  
Might have known what you would find  
Wish I knew what you were looking for  
Might have known what you would find_

_And it's something quite peculiar  
Something shimmering and white  
Leads you here despite your destination  
Under the Milky Way tonight_

_Wish I knew what you were looking for  
Might have known what you would find  
Wish I knew what you were looking for  
Might have known what you would find_

_Under the Milky Way tonight  
Under the Milky Way tonight  
Under the Milky Way tonight_

Under the Milky Way was the first song that Gwen decided to perform that night on stage. Although Gwen was mostly known for her gifted drumming, she knew how to play the guitar and wasn't a half-bad singer. She wasn't as talented as MJ, but Gwen found solace in it. Not to say that Gwen didn't enjoy the drums, it was a great way to get out her aggression much to the chagrin of a few poor drum kits she had accidentally destroyed in the past.

Gwen was paid to be part of a live band that would do mostly acoustic covers of songs at Kelsey's bar. Each band member got to pick a few songs and you learned them and played them whether you liked it or not. Under the Milky Way was Gwen's personal choice. She had recalled it from her childhood, but the memory was vague.

To Gwen, the best part of the stage at Kelsey's was the lighting. The stage was barely illuminated with lights that stretched across the floorboards and the rest of the bar was shrouded in darkness. There were short, round tables surrounding the front of the stage and the bar itself was on the opposite side of the room. It was almost impossible to see anyone at the tables themselves, so it was easy for Gwen to get lost in her performance.

After the first song, Gwen could feel her nerves settle. She was never one to get anxious over a performance, but knowing she was being watched by friends made her uncomfortable. If people you didn't know didn't like your performance, they'd be honest with you and it was easier to brush off. When a friend or someone you know watches your performance, their less likely to be straightforward with you about it. And there was nothing more awkward than sensing the false compliments of your own friends.

The small band which consisted of four members continued to play their humble covers. Sometimes Gwen would sing and other times she wouldn't. There were certain vocal ranges she was incapable of meeting, especially when one of your band members insisted on playing Soundgarden's 4th of July. No one could match the talent of Chris Cornell, despite what her band member thought. But since Gwen did sing most of the songs, she always had the pleasure of picking what tune they'd go out on.

_Gonna stay on the straight and narrow  
__Gonna stay on the righteous path  
Gonna stay away from love's arrow  
Gonna take my life back_

_Well, I've been a sinner and you've been a saint  
And I'm bad news and baby you ain't  
And I hope you got no more complaints  
Cause I'm stayin' on the straight and narrow_

_And all I need is a song  
All I need is a song  
Won't you help me see right from wrong?  
Won't you take me back where I belong?  
Come on, come on, sing along_

_Well, I've been a sinner and you've been a saint  
And I'm bad news and baby you ain't_

_And I hope you got, no more complaints  
Cause I'm stayin' on the straight and narrow_

_Gonna stay on the straight and narrow  
Gonna stay on the righteous path  
Gonna stay away from love's arrows  
Gonna take my life back_

_Take my life back  
Take my life back  
Take my life back_

There was a mild round of applause for the band when they finished their set. Sundays at Kelsey's were never busy which is precisely why they hired a live band to play. Although, Gwen wasn't technically part of the band. She had been to Kelsey's before and at the time the band lost one of their singer/guitar players, so Gwen thought what the hell? Gwen agreed to perform with them every Sunday and Wednesday which came with two free drinks and one-hundred dollars in cash. However, the booze and money weren't what motivated her in this situation. As mentioned before, Gwen found it to be a soothing experience.

Gwen Stacy left the stage and approached her friends (friend?) who had been sitting a few tables away from the stage.

Gwen saw Mary Jane's eyes light up like the high-beams on a truck. "That was awesome, Gwen!" the loud woman exclaimed. "But that guy who sang 4th of July? What was he thinking?"

"He was thinking he loves that song," Gwen grinned at MJ in agreement. "He insists on it every time we play."

"Oh, right!" MJ got up from her seat and pointed at the man next to her. He wore an obviously professionally tailored grey suit and had his blond hair perfectly styled and parted. "This is Zack Rodriquez. From the café."

"I remember," Gwen nodded at him. "I'm assuming you already know who I am?"

Zack stood up to offer Gwen a handshake. "She's mentioned you a few times," he greeted her with a seemingly kind smile.

Gwen stared down to look at Stephen who was holding a glass of whiskey and a flat expression. "Doctor," Gwen said. "I'm guessing you introduced yourself to these lovely people?"

"Barely," he also stood up. "We were too mesmerized by your performance to have much chance to talk." There was sincerity in his sentiment; Gwen could tell it wasn't simply a compliment for her sake.

Zack put his arm around MJ's shoulder and turned his attention to Gwen. "You're quite the talent. Mary Jane mentioned you're also a drummer? You must have started playing early on in life."

Before Gwen could respond, Mary Jane was on it. "Oh, no. Gwen started playing when she was twenty. After she was missing for seven years her psychologist said it would be good for her to concentrate on something. Right, Gwen?"

Gwen felt her heart drop to her stomach. "Mary Jane," Gwen's words were hardly audible.

"Oh, no," MJ covered her mouth. "I shouldn't have said that."

Zack gripped onto MJ's shoulders and gave her a playful shake. "It's okay. Don't worry about it."

Stephen raised a brow curiously at Gwen Stacy. She went missing for seven years, he pondered. Well, that did sound staggeringly familiar to the doctor. A young girl can't go missing for seven years without it having been mentioned in the news at some point.

"Ah, well," MJ blinked at the group trying to contain her own excitement. "I reserved us a table at Terra & Mare; it's just across the street."

Gwen squinted at MJ and said, "What's with your recent obsession with Italian?"

"I like trying new things," MJ passively shrugged. "It's a new place and it's got great reviews online."

The four left Kelsey's together and Gwen surveyed the way that Mary Jane took Zack's hand in hers. She met the guy a few days ago and now she's acting like this? Gwen wished she couldn't believe it, but it was typical of Mary Jane. When MJ fell, she fell hard.

Gwen caught Stephen staring at her as the group of four crossed the evening street. "Thanks for coming," Gwen mumbled at him. "You didn't have to."

"Would you have preferred if I said no?" Stephen replied. "I did offer to take you out for dinner; although, these are not the circumstances I had imagined. Something more private would have been ideal."

"Sorry?" Gwen showed him a crooked grin; she wasn't keen on the situation either. "I wasn't going to ask you at all, but MJ likes to get her way."

"Mary Jane said you went missing for seven years?" there was no possibility that Stephen wasn't going to bring it up. "That is a significant amount of time to be missing. What happened to you?"

"I knew you were going to bring it up," Gwen gritted her teeth in annoyance. "Sometimes MJ can say… Sometimes she just doesn't have a filter."

"I was going to find out sooner or later," he responded.

"How so?"

"Was your plan to keep that fact hidden forever?" he crooked his head at her.

"I don't plan on hanging out with you forever," Gwen let a smile slip on her face when she said this; she didn't actually mean it.

"Is that so?" he caught on to Gwen's smile. "Does that mean you're not going to tell me what happened?"

"Can we just have dinner?" she exhaled. "Like normal people?"

"There's no fun in normal," unintentionally and unknowingly, he repeated the words Spider-Woman had spoken not too long ago.

The four arrived at Terra & Mare and were seated promptly. Gwen felt as if she stuck out like a sore thumb; not only because her companions were dressed on par with a black-tie affair and little Gwen was wearing a light-grey wool sweater with a pair of dark jeans, but also because of the restaurant itself. Terra & Mare's high ceilings were adorned in reflective black tiles; the floors were covered with a deep blue checkered carpet and leather seats surrounded the perfectly laid tables. The restaurant was lit with the warm glow of candles and an older gentlemen rested in a far corner quietly playing a pleasant tune on a baby grand. It was too nice for Gwen.

Gwen watched as Zack politely pulled out Mary Jane's seat and Gwen was relieved that the doctor offered her no such pleasantries. Mary Jane looked like a picture out of a magazine; pristine in her beauty, she had the air of belonging. Gwen wouldn't admit this to MJ, but it did cause the occasional jealously on Gwen's part. It wasn't that she wanted to be MJ or that she wanted the attention; Gwen just sometimes, and only sometimes, wished that she was a perfect doll-like her best friend.

"So," Zack's eyes darted between Gwen and Stephen. "How long have the two of you been dating?"

"Sorry for the confusion," Stephen glanced at Gwen. "But as far as I am aware, we are not dating."

Gwen reached for a glass of water. "I met him like a week ago; we're just friends."

"Friends?" Zack gave Gwen a quizzical look. "I see. So, uh," he moved his attention to Stephen, "What do you do for a living, Stephen?"

"Doctor," Stephen flashed a smile at Zack, but turned his concentration to the waiter. "I'll order a bottle of Veitta Villero for the table."

MJ was floored. "That's a four-hundred-dollar bottle of wine," she said while glancing at the menu.

"I would order a bottle of Masseto Toscana if they had it," Stephen turned back to the waiter. "But I'm afraid it can only be ordered at authentic Italian restaurants; which there are very few of here in New York."

Gwen watched the waiter leave before she said anything to Stephen. "That guy is totally going to spit in your food," she was a bit annoyed by his offhand remark.

"And I don't introduce myself as Dr. Stephen Strange to be humble, Zack," he was referring to Zack's lack of minimal observation.

"Of course, you said that," Zack put on a brand new smile. "I'm guessing you do well for yourself as a doctor?"

"Enough about me," Stephen leaned back in his chair. "What is your vocation in life?"

"Entrepreneur," Zack's tone and posture held a level of pride.

"I didn't know that was a job title," Stephen dismissed the man.

Gwen could feel MJ's eyes burning a hole straight through her. This was exactly what Gwen had feared, but not what she had expected. As it turns out, Strange was making good on his earlier words. He was indeed being an asshole.

"Ah, well," Zack wasn't sure how to interpret the doctor's statement. "Right now I'm the lead on a successful tech start-up. We made an app to help people with weight loss."

"Yes, it's best that the American public put their trust in a piece of trivial software over a licensed practitioner," Stephen gave Zack snide response. "Truly, you must be proud of your work."

"You see; we did have the assistance of a nutritionist when we were designing the app." Zack's humble will wouldn't be quashed by the doctor.

"Yes, of course," Stephen patronized Zack. "Because we all know that a registered dietitian, who require possession of an undergraduate degree, and nutritionists, who are wholly self-proclaimed, are virtually identical."

That bottle of wine couldn't come soon enough, Gwen thought to herself as she rapped her fingers on the table's edge. It was going to be a long night.


	13. Chapter 13: Can't Meet You Here

People lie and deceive us all the time. Because of these people, we end up in a world divided in two. First, there are those who immediately give all humans the benefit of the doubt. These people assume that everyone is as good intentioned as themselves. Second, there are those who demand that their trust be earned. Unlike the previous group, these people assume everyone is as manipulative as they are. Both groups think they can see right from wrong and that they are accurate judges of character. Both groups think their way is the best way. The question is, is anyone fundamentally better than anyone else?

Without further ado, the waiter brought the over-priced bottle of Nebbiolo wine to their table. Gwen could feel her muscles uncontrollably tightening from stress, and she desperately needed something to take of the edge. What on Earth was she thinking, she screamed internally to herself. Dr. Strange told Gwen he was an asshole, so what right did she have to be angry when he acted exactly like one? It was outrageous for Gwen to believe that she let herself get roped into this by Mary Jane; it was a terrible idea from the start.

Zack was still processing the doctor's previous statement. "Well, I… When you think about how expensive healthcare is; even just to get help losing weight… The app does help people a lot. In our first week of launch, we got twenty-five thousand downloads. It was incredible."

"Healthcare is expensive because you can't put a price on human lives," Stephen scrutinized the waiter who poured a glass of wine for everyone at the table. "Are you implying that doctors don't deserve to make a living wage?"

"Maybe not buying a four-hundred-dollar bottle of wine wage," Zack gestured at the wine. "I mean, really?"

"Craniectomy; are you familiar with it?" Strange lifted his wine glass.

"No, I don't know," Zack looked over the MJ and shrugged.

"It's open brain surgery where a piece of the patient's skull must be removed," Stephen sipped his wine. "Brain surgery is known for its particularly high mortality rate. I have never lost a single patient because I am the best at what I do. So, tell me; how much of your blood, sweat, and tears did you expel to achieve your dream as an entrepreneur? How much of your life have you dedicated to becoming the world's greatest entrepreneur?"

MJ leaned over the table to stop Gwen from taking a drink. "Hey, Gwen, can we talk for a minute?"

"Uh, yeah…" Gwen sadly placed her glass back down; it was pretty obvious what this was going to be about. Gwen didn't say anything to Strange before leaving, but she did offer him a head nod of disappointment.

Mary Jane paraded Gwen into the woman's bathroom with haste.

"I know exactly what's on your mind," Gwen pointed at her friend.

"Oh yeah, what?" MJ huffed as she rested herself against the marble countertop.

"Dr. Strange is an asshole?" Gwen presented it as a question, but it was actually a statement.

"Wow, Gwen," MJ flung her arms up. "You're a genius."

"Ah, I told you," Gwen puffed her cheeks out. "I said this was a bad idea."

"You didn't mention that your boyfriend is a total fucking asshole!" Mary Jane started to raise her voice.

"Uh, MJ," Gwen matched her tone. "He isn't my fucking boyfriend; I've known him for a goddamn week and I told you he was an asshole! I think I said those exact words!"

"Then why are you hanging out with this guy, Gwen?!" MJ didn't want a shouting match, but she sure as hell was a champion in that contest.

"Just, calm down," Gwen lowered her arms. "I don't want to fight about this of all things."

"Seriously, Gwen," MJ allowed herself to calm down before clasping her friend's hands. "What's going on here?"

"What do you mean?" Gwen rolled her eyes. "Are you talking about my best friend and my mother pushing me into spending time with someone I never wanted to spend time with?"

"If it was this bad why did you ever agree to bring him along? Why didn't you make a bigger point?" MJ let her friend go. "I can totally get it if you said that this is how he acted."

"He doesn't-" Gwen sighed, "-he's nice to me. I know, mostly nice. MJ, I honestly didn't believe he was going to act like this."

"You need to stay away from him at all costs," MJ turned to face the wall-length mirror. "I thought you had a radar for those kinds of guys; that's why I brought you along."

"MJ, did you figure that maybe I want to be Stephen's friend?"

"No, no, no, no," MJ vigorously shook her head. "Okay, so maybe he's nice to you like most of the time. And then he's an asshole to everyone else. You don't think he does that to every woman he meets? He's a manipulative psycho, Gwen. You need to stay away from him."

"You and May told me to talk to him," Gwen balled her fists up. "And, so you know what? I did; I talked to him. He was a stranger, just some person and I felt like I had nothing to lose. And for once in my life, I was honest with another human being and…"

"And?" Mary Jane saw the redness in her friend's cheeks; she saw the sadness in her eyes.

"And it felt like a part of me left," Gwen lowered her head away from MJ. "Like I've had this burden for years, and, and… And he didn't say anything; he didn't judge me for it."

"Gwen," Mary Jane moved closer to her friend. "No one is ever going to judge you; I'm never going to judge you."

"That's where you're wrong," Gwen could feel hot tears streak down her face. "If people knew the truth; if you knew the truth… You'd hate me forever."

Mary Jane grabbed a small folded towel from the counter and handed it to Gwen. "I don't think he's the answer to your problems, Gwen. Guys like that… You know they make you worse."

"You're right, MJ… You're always right." Gwen grabbed the towel and dabbed the tears from her face. "I'm going to leave… I'll get Stephen to leave. I'm sure Zack will be grateful for it."

"I guess this didn't work…" Mary Jane arbitrarily picked up a towel to wipe her own hands. "You were supposed to be sussing out my guy, not the other way around."

"He seems okay," Gwen wanted MJ to put her gleeful expression back on. "Despite the shit that was coming out of Stephen's mouth, Zack handled it really well."

"Maybe that was the preferred test," the ghost of a smile began haunting MJ's mouth. "See how well he does when someone is being a total d-bag to him."

"Maybe," Gwen threw the towel in a wicker basket next to the counter.

"I'm sorry, Gwen," the ghost smile left Mary Jane.

"For what?" Gwen wondered.

"I was pushy about… I was trying to pressure you to get into a relationship because, because…" MJ scratched at the side of her face. "Because I thought that it would make you happier; that it would make you better."

"Mary Jane… No one in the world can make you better. Getting better is up to you."

Once Mary Jane and Gwen returned to the awaiting gentlemen, Gwen loomed over Stephen's shoulder and stared down at him.

Dr. Strange raised a curious brow at her, "Everything alright?"

"We're going to leave," Gwen gestured to the door with her thumb.

Zack stood up in surprise. "But we haven't even ordered dinner, Gwen."

MJ reached for Zack's arm as she sat down. "Gwen's been feeling a bit sick these past few days."

"Uh, yeah," Gwen agreed. "I work tomorrow morning and need some rest."

As Gwen said this, Stephen got up from the table. "I'll be glad to escort you home."

"Don't forget to pay for your over-priced garbo wine," Gwen pointed at the table.

Stephen playfully glared at Gwen as he, much to Gwen's surprise, removed four-hundred cash from his wallet.

"Don't you think it's unwise to be caring that much cash on you?" Gwen spoke. "You never know when someone is going to mug you."

"With Spider-Woman around?" he added. "I've never felt safer in my entire life."

Gwen didn't say good-bye to her friend, nor did she wait on ceremony for the doctor; she left that flamboyant restaurant behind. However, it wasn't long before Stephen caught up with Gwen. In her defense, she wasn't moving at an inhuman pace even though she could if she chose to.

"Aren't I giving you a ride home?" Stephen asked when he finally caught up to her.

"No." Gwen kept walking. "I think you've done enough damage for one day."

Gwen turned down a narrow alleyway, but Stephen continued to follow her. "Where are you going?"

"Home," Gwen pivoted on her heels and pointed down the alley. "In the most efficient and fastest way I know."

"By cutting through dark alleys?" Stephen peered at the inky, garbage-strewn backstreet that was likely full of squalid creatures.

"One, it's not that bad; it's an alley," Gwen looked down the narrow path. "And two, I'm the Spider-Woman."

Gwen ignored the doctor and continued to walk, but he brought up the rear. "Are you disappointed in me? You seemed quite eager to remove me from your friend's presence."

"Because as it turns out," Gwen turned right down another alley, "you really are an asshole. I foolishly thought you were exaggerating."

"The man said he was an entrepreneur; that's not a job title, that's a joke."

"Does it even matter?" Gwen groaned in annoyance. "Who cares what he does?"

"Because it does matter," Stephen smiled at her. "You and I of all people know that more than most. Gwen, you risk your own life to protect people like him."

"And what do you risk?" she sighed.

"I've dedicated my entire life to saving people; to helping people," Stephen's response included a hint of smugness. "How many others can say they've done the same?"

"It doesn't matter how many people you save if you're a selfish bastard," Gwen almost shouted at the doctor. "Saving people doesn't automatically make you better than them."

She heard the doctor's footfalls stop. "I'm sorry, Gwen. I didn't mean to cause you distress."

"Really?" Gwen turned to Stephen; his figure was barely illuminated by the city lights. "Those are the same words you said to me before."

"Gwen, you're not like other people," his tone was full of sincerity and kindness. "You're better than most people. You deserve better than most people."

"No, that's not how it works," Gwen could hear her own voice echo down the alley, but there was something else in the echo. "I'm no better than anyone else. Nobody is more or less important than anyone else."

"I beg to differ," Stephen's voice also echoed off the narrow opening between buildings, and as it did Gwen picked-up the sound of someone shuffling. Whoever it was, they were trying to conceal themselves.

With a stern frown, Gwen moved over to Stephen and latched onto his arm.

"What's this about?" he looked over at her.

"Shh," Gwen raised a finger at him. "I hear something."

"Who's there?!" without caution, Stephen yelled down the alleyway. "Show yourself!"

"You're an idiot," Gwen glowered at him.

A wide and hunched over silhouette shuffled out from behind a small dumpster.

"Can we help you?" Stephen said without fear or worry; he was with Spider-Woman after all.

Still holding Stephen's arm, Gwen scowled at the figure and yanked Stephen a step behind herself.

"He's got a gun," Gwen whispered to Stephen.

Strange squinted down the alley and whispered back, "I don't see anything."

"Are you the Spider-Woman?" Gwen muttered. "He's got it down by his side."

"Spiders aren't known for their exceptional vision," Stephen felt the need to inform Gwen on the matter.

The shadowed man shuffled closer to Stephen and Gwen while he slowly lifted his right arm.

"I asked if we could help you," Stephen repeated himself.

The gun wavered in the darkened figure's grip. "Gimme your wallets," he croaked at them.

"I'd rather not," Stephen couldn't help but make a snide remark. "I'm very fond of my wallet, to be honest. It was a gift from my father."

"Shut it!" the wobbling man screeched. "I dun care; just give it."

"No," and that word managed to escape Stephen's mouth at the same second Gwen pushed him into a nearby brick wall. Only milliseconds later, a loud crackle boomed from the man's gun. Gwen had just saved Stephen's life.

Gwen jumped the ten-foot gap that the robber had kept between them. With her right hand, she clasped onto the man's gun and yanked it out of his grip. With her left hand, she struck the man in the face with a closed fist which caused him to collapse without delay. Gwen emptied the chamber of the old revolver and snapped the weapon like a twig. Even though Stephen was stunned by the sounding blow of the weapon, he was able to watch Gwen's quick reflexes in amazement.

"That was impressive," Stephen still rested against the wall where Gwen had pushed him over. "How'd you know he was going to shoot?"

"I sensed it," Gwen turned around to look at Stephen; she was not impressed.

"Honestly, I was expecting you to do something sooner," Stephen lifted himself off the ground. "Use your webbing to snatch the gun from his hand or something along those lines."

"Yeah, if I'm going to publicly reveal myself as the Spider-Woman, I'm going to do it for some dumbass mugger," Gwen lowered her expression at the unconscious body.

"You saved my life," his heart was racing from both fear and excitement; he found that it was a thrill to be saved by the Spider-Woman.

Gwen cracked her knuckles while taking in a deep breath. "Were you trying to get yourself killed?"

"I knew you'd protect me," Stephen grinned at her.

"What were you expecting?" Gwen twisted her head to Stephen. "What if I couldn't have saved you?"

"A life well lived," it hadn't occurred to Stephen that the crazed man would actually shoot at them. "But we're all okay."

"Stephen," Gwen couldn't understand how he was so calm after being shot at. "I'm going to go home now… And…"

"I have a feeling that you're upset with me?" he accurately observed her solemn demeanor.

"You come to dinner with me, shit on my friend's date, and attempt to get yourself killed. All of this in one night," Gwen wasn't frustrated or angry with him, she was just disappointed. But what was she expecting from him? "Stephen, what am I supposed to say to you?"

"See you later?" Stephen was hopeful; if fate would allow it.

"That's it?" Gwen could hear sirens in the distance. "See you later?"

"I would apologize again, but that didn't seem to be good enough for you."

"Good enough?" Gwen relaxed her shoulders and shook her head. "Saying sorry is meaningless if you never plan on changing who you are. You can't keep doing the same thing over and over again and expect to get different results."

"I know," a swift look of despair crossed his eyes. "Of course, you're right."

"You can't just agree with me and…" Gwen couldn't see the point in talking to him any further. "And, nothing. I have to go."

"I do hope to see you again," he gave her a faint smile of guilt. "Even if I've upset you… Again."

"Stephen," she moved to walk past him. "You've helped me out and, and… I appreciate that. But maybe we should just leave it at that?"

"If that's your inclination," he said this despite it not being what he wanted. Whether or not she was going to admit it, Gwen was special. You could argue that her abilities and identity as the Spider-Woman are what made her a noteworthy human being, but Stephen knew there was more to Gwen then that. She could have done anything with her powers, and yet she made the decision to help people. She risked everything she had to be the Spider-Woman.

"Goodbye, Stephen," Gwen turned away and left Stephen with the unconscious robber in that damned, dark alley.

When Gwen arrived home not too long later, she discovered several more missed calls from her best pal Detective Terry Lee. She suspected that the reason had something to do with that good-for-nothing scumbag Benito Howse. To Gwen Stacy, it felt like shit was hitting the fan at an unmatched velocity. The past week had been just one godforsaken thing after another.

"Howdy, detective," Spider-Woman put on a fake southern accent when she called Lee. "How can I help you tonight?"

"Do you ever read the news, Spi?" the detective's voice was ripe with frustration.

"I told you, that's what I have you for!" she chirped in an upbeat tone.

"This isn't funny. It seems like you're leaving a trail of shit wherever you go, Spi," Lee replied. "Did you happen to pay Benito Howse a visit recently?"

"As it turns out, I did. I should probably stop checking-in on Facebook when I'm out crime-fighting," she joked.

"I'm gonna wanna hear your story Spi, because I don't wanna believe what I heard down at the precinct," the detective didn't want to believe that Spider-Woman was actually a killer. "I don't want to believe what they're saying on the news about you."

"You shouldn't believe everything you hear, Lee," she could surmise what he was getting at, but she wasn't going to let that ruin her jester persona. "If your friends all jumped off a bridge, would you?"

"Spi, that's not even-" he was going to correct her improper use of the idiom, but he knew that's exactly what she was hoping for, "-What I need is for you to tell me what happened to Benito."

"I didn't touch him," she reconsidered her statement before moving on. "Okay, well I did beat up his guards and backhanded him. And he cried like a baby; what a puss."

"According to Benito's bodyguards, Spider-Woman killed him," he paused in lieu of one of her witty remarks, but she stayed silent. "They claim that after you used your webbing to tie them up, you beat Benito Howse to death with your bare hands."

"If I was going to do that, I would kill all the witnesses, too." Gwen had suspected that Benito wasn't going to pull through. The two guards knew that it was Spider-Woman who had taken them down and when they came to/managed to escape, they would have seen a virtually unscathed Benito and a missing Spider. One could only draw the conclusion that Benito must have talked.

"Just tell me what happened, Spi. I need to know the truth."

"I got Benito to talk. He admitted that he had been helping his pal Franklin Roscoe sell young girls, Lee," there was no joking in her tone now. "They were bringing customers to the clubs and selling the girls like pieces of fucking meat. Benito said his boy Frankie was in charge, but eventually, I got the truth out of him. As it turns out, they work for some mysterious fucking invisible man known only as Kingpin."

"Kingpin?" it wasn't the first time Lee had heard the name. "It had to be him."

"You know this guy?" Gwen started to pace between her bed and her window.

"No, but I know of him. His name has only come up in the past few months. Sounds like he's a big player."

"What, of Fortnite?" Gwen shook her head even though Lee wasn't around to appreciate the gesture. "What do you mean by big player?"

"Since I know you live under a rock, I'll educate you," he mocked her. "Kingpin is a reference to the mob, Spi. A leader of a syndicate."

"So," Gwen's tone raised with intrigue, "you're saying this guy is a crime-lord? Who knows how many pies his hands are in? Cut off the head."

"Cut off the head?"

"And the body dies," Gwen scoffed. "And you said I live under a rock."

"Spi," Lee's labored sigh was loud and obvious over the phone. "You're going to get yourself killed going after someone you know nothing about."

"Intel, information gathering," Gwen explained. "I won't go in blind; that's ridiculous."

"What you seem to be missing Spi, is that your life is only gonna get harder from here on out. You're wanted for the death of two men; people don't like murderers. The NYPD doesn't like murderers."

"You guys should be overjoyed," she exclaimed. "Those men were criminal scum. I didn't kill them, but they were still scum. Aren't you boys happy that these asshats are off the streets?"

"There are two things the PD hates, Spi. They hate vigilante justice and they hate crimes against Hydra." Although Lee didn't agree with either of those preferences. "You know what the article in the Daily Bugle says about Benito's death?"

"Oh god," Gwen dropped her shoulders back, "you shouldn't be reading that garbage."

"It says," Lee continued, "Local business owner murdered by Spider-Woman. Not criminal, not asshole, not piece of shit, but businessman. To the public, you killed an innocent man. And by the way, everyone reads the Daily Bugle."

"Have you heard J.J.'s podcasts? The guy is a lunatic Hydra supporter. I can hear him cum in his fucking pants every time he mentions them."

"That image," Lee bunched his eyebrows, not that Gwen could see. "I don't want to think about that image. That's disgusting."

"Okay, well anyway," Gwen was ready to hang up; she had shit to do. "I'm going after Frankie Roscoe tonight. I don't plan on killing him. Please make sure to write that down in your diary. We'll need it for evidence someday."

"I don't want you taking unnecessary risks," Lee didn't want her taking any risks. Hydra, the PD, Kingpin's men; they all had a target painted on Spider-Woman's back. "You know Frankie is gonna be expecting you."

"More the merrier." Although, that wasn't quite true for Gwen. Lee was right, they were probably expecting her now. And expecting her likely meant more fire-power and more man-power. It's funny how getting shot once can really sour your attitude towards the American public's gun obsession.

"You need to be careful."

"You worry too much." And she was right; he did worry too much. Lee couldn't stop worrying about Spider-Woman. He had nightmares where he found her dead body lying in the street next to St Bartholomew's Church. He wanted to see her face and know who she was, but in his dreams, she was always mutilated beyond recognition. It was as if someone had torn her into a thousand pieces with a machine gun. Worst of all, other onlookers in his dream didn't seem to care.

"Who else is going to worry about you?" He wondered if she had a family and what they were like. Did she have a boyfriend, husband; was she in love? How can you spend your nights flinging through the city getting shot at by people who don't know your face, and still go back home and be normal? Could there ever be normal for a person like that?

"Oh you know, my twenty boyfriends," she chuckled to herself. "But not because I'm Spider-Woman, but instead because I'm a whore."

"Always the comedian?" But for all he knew, she could have been telling him the truth.

"I got fish to fry," and she hung up on him suddenly, as she was prone to doing.

And that little fish's name was Franklin Roscoe.


	14. Chapter 14: The Devil is Listening

Betrayal is essentially the equivalent of heartbreak on the deepest level. Having someone betray you implies that you had their personal assurance of their loyalty. An enemy cannot betray you, but a friend can. Those you despise cannot betray you, but those you love can. The word betrayal has the weight of a thousand stones tied to it. You don't see a betrayal coming; you can't predict it. By the time your heart and soul have been shredded into a million pieces, it's too late. Betrayal is the worst crime you can commit against your own friends.

Franklin 'Frankie' Roscoe was a convicted criminal. Frankie joined The Bloods at the sprouting young age of 16. While Frankie was a member of The Bloods he collected drug debts for the crack ring that the gang was operating. But all good things must come to an end. Ten years ago the NYPD effectively arrested the head honchos of The Bloods, destroying whatever grip they had on the crack trade in Hell's Kitchen. Frankie was caught at the age of 23, putting his drug debt collection days to an end. He served his five years and on paper, he hasn't committed a single crime since. However, Spider-Woman knew that this wasn't the case for Frankie boy.

Frankie was lying low in the most obvious spot a person could lay low; his own apartment. Gwen had to give him credit for his ignorant, pretentious taste in the high life. It was clear that Frankie had been doing well for himself as of late; the man had a penthouse apartment in Manhattan of all places. Rich folk had penthouse apartments in Manhattan; Dr. Strange probably had a Manhattan penthouse. Despite Frankie's fancy apartment, his lack of class was apparent. It was as if the interior decorator he hired was an African game hunter from the '70s. Leopard print everywhere.

Spider-Woman was waiting for something, anything; she wasn't sure what. The south-facing side of Frankie's two-story, four-thousand square foot penthouse, was a solid wall of glass. Only a few blocks from Frankie's fancy digs was the grand old Empire State Building. The building took up a fair amount of the apartment's view, but it was glamorous to see it so close. Of course, it was nothing special to Spider-Woman; she'd climbed the Empire State more than a few times just because she could. Jumped off it, too. Frankie seemed like the kind of guy who'd think view like that was all class.

Thanks to the apartment's wonderful lookout and impractical massive window, Spider-Woman was able to lie down belly first on the roof and peer over the edge into his place with her head upside down. Gwen was grateful that she didn't have to turn invisible to spy on him. However, the problem was that Frankie was currently hosting a party. This also was not the fun, let's get all your friends together and drink, kind of party. Instead, this was the, I'll sit on my leopard print loveseat practically shitting myself in fear so I invited my ten bodyguards over, kind of party. And that kind of party was a party specifically for Spider-Woman.

She could see one guard continuously fighting his narcolepsy at the kitchen bar, three others playing the most challenging card game on the planet otherwise known as Go Fish, two more sitting on Frankie's leopard sofa which was next to the loveseat, and those were just the guards inside. Before she scaled the fortyish story building, she peeked in on its lobby. Not to her astonishment, there were two additional armed guards that weren't a part of the building's regular security staff. These were the signs of a man fearing for his own life which made Gwen ask herself a few questions.

The first and obvious question that came to her mind was whether or not the guards were actually there to dissuade her. Secondly, did Frankie know the truth about his boyfriend Benito Howse? Either way was probably enough motivation to make him shit bricks. If Spider-Woman is a murderer, oh God, better watch the fuck out. If Spider-Woman isn't a murderer, well you still better hope sure as hell she doesn't find a way to get to you and make you give up the can of beans. Third, did Frankie know who the Kingpin is? Or does Frankie know who knows who the Kingpin is?

No matter how it played out, Gwen figured she'd observe Frankie for a while and see what he gets up to. Gwen had plenty of time since she brought snacks along for the ride. And by snacks, she meant a dozen Krispy Kreme donuts, four bananas, and three bottles of Clean and Green Cold Pressed Organic Juice. All stolen from a nearby 7-Eleven. She thought about robbing a different confectionary for once in her career as the Spider-Woman, but 7-Eleven had everything a girl like her could ask for. Booze, donuts, organic smoothies; they had it all. After all, there was no way Gwen was going into a battle hungry; mostly because she needed the extra calories to use her powers.

It was around one in the morning when tired Frankie boy received an unusual visitor. Gwen only noted that it was unusual because there was nothing worth mentioning about the man. Frankie's visitor was a clean-cut, clean-shaven, brown hair, brown-eyed, normal-looking dude. As mentioned before, Gwen can sorta, kinda hear through walls and glass. Most of the time, this ability was convenient and made eavesdropping a breeze, but there was a problem on this particular occasion. There were too many sources of vocal sounds coming from one area. Five of the guards were in mid-conversation and the television was on. This made for a cocktail of noises that Gwen would be lucky to pick two or three words from. Nonetheless, she gave it her best shot.

Spider-Woman picked up three important notes from the conversation Frankie had with the strange man in the brown suit. During the talk, Gwen consecutively picked up on the name Kingpin, so it was clear they were discussing the big man. That is, if Kingpin was a big man, but Gwen wouldn't know. She also managed the catch the stranger's name; Alistair Smythe. The final detail that Gwen noted was how terrified Frankie sounded throughout the entire conversation. If he was afraid of Alistair, this was good news for Gwen! All Gwen wanted was to climb the ladder of peons to their one and only maker. If Frankie was afraid of Alistair, it was likely because he was higher up the baddie food chain.

What Gwen did not see coming in a thousand years is what happened next. Without hesitation, Alistair pulled a gun out from underneath his brown suit jacket and shot ol' Frankie boy point-blank in the chest.

"Shit!" Gwen muttered to herself. Thinking on her toes, Gwen swiftly removed her phone from her back pocket and started to record the aftermath of the shooting. It would have been ideal if she caught the actual murder on camera, but here's hoping what little evidence she could collect would mean something someday.

The guards didn't seem to be all too concerned that the man they were protecting had just been killed. Nope, instead, they waited for Alistair to leave before packing up themselves. Without a doubt, the bodyguards had likely been told ahead of time that this was going to happen. By the looks of it, if Kingpin wanted you dead, you'd die. But why kill Frankie, Gwen wondered? Did he know something? Or was it because of her?

Spider-Woman got a confession out of Benito, so perhaps Kingpin assumed that she would get a confession out of Franklin Roscoe, too. Now Gwen had a new suspicion about Frankie's sudden death; Spider-Woman was going to receive the blame. What was frustrating was that if Gwen was going to kill someone, not that she ever would, she wouldn't shoot them to death. Considering all of her powers and abilities, she could definitely come up with something more creative. But murder wasn't a topic Gwen liked to spend too much time concentrating on. Spider-Woman was no murderer.

"You're going to love this," were the words that came out of Gwen's mouth when she called detective Lee.

"This better be good," the groggy detective spoke from the other end of the line.

"I just witnessed a man by the name of Alistair Smythe shoot our buddy, Frankie Roscoe. Get your cop pals and get to Frankie's apartment asap," and that was all Gwen said before she hung up.

If Alistair was a bigger fish who worked for the biggest fish, well she needed to know. Gwen leaped down the forty story apartment and waited across the street on a humbler resident's shadowy rooftop. It wasn't long before she watched Alistair leave the front lobby of the apartment and head towards a silver sedan. Gwen slid down the front of the building and hid next to a stairwell where she could get a closer view of the sedan's license plate. For good measure, and for more evidence, she snapped a picture of the plate with her phone. Seconds later, Gwen heard sirens headed in her direction and Alistair Smythe began driving away from the scene.

Alistair drove several blocks before pulling into an alley behind a Chinese restaurant with red neon signs. One of the signs said it was an all you could eat buffet, but Gwen wasn't a fan of Chinese food. All you can eat, though? Challenge accepted. She shifted from her train of thought and noticed Alistair was absentmindedly having a cigarette next to a presumably rank garbage bin. What was he waiting for, she asked herself?

"I'm no idiot," Alistair spoke to the air. "I know you're out there. I saw you back at the apartment." He was talking to Spider-Woman.

Gwen stayed silent not knowing if he was bluffing or not. He could have had a hunch that she was following him, but not know for certain.

"You're as good as dead," he continued. "Kingpin knows you're looking for him. Once he has you, you know he isn't going to stop, right? Once he has you, he'll have your family, your friends, your boyfriend; they're all dead."

Gwen couldn't resist the bait. "Oh yeah? Too bad that to protect myself I've already murdered everyone I've ever loved," she shouted to him from the top of the restaurant; it didn't appear to her that he knew where she was.

"Everyone has something to lose," Alistair took a deep drag from his cigarette; she saw the embers light up his face in the darkness. "Someone like you has a whole city to lose."

"Haven't you heard? I'm a heartless killer, Mr. Smythe," was her snarky response. But he was right about Gwen; there was always something to lose. There would always be innocent people out in the world.

"Across the street, there's a four-floor apartment building," Alistair continued to puff on his smoke. "That building is decrepit, falling apart, full of low-income individuals. There are few places like them left in Manhattan and for good reason."

"I'm glad to know someone who's got their eye on Manhattan's real estate market," Gwen turned her head to the left and saw the building he spoke of; it plainly looked out of place when you compared it to most of the community.

"As of last time I checked, there were twenty-four individuals in that building," he threw his cigarette to the ground and stamped it out. "Hopefully you can save them all before it's too late."

"What?" Gwen bolted her eyes to the building and then back to Alistair. He quickly entered the driver seat of his sedan and started backing out of the side-street. Was this his plan to get the Spider-Woman off of his scent? Gwen knew his name, but that didn't seem to concern him and she also had his plate number but was that enough to find him later? There was no way to know if he was lying, and if he was, what then? Alistair did say that there was always someone to lose.

Spider-Woman made no further hesitation and jumped the gap between the Chinese restaurant and the sad apartment building. The front door of the building was locked, but she forced it open with a hard kick. When Gwen entered, she noted a unique stench filling the air; the smell reminded her of a swimming pool. However, this scent was caustic and Gwen could feel her chest ache after a few breaths. The apartment was being filled with some sort of toxic gas; she wasn't sure how or where it was coming from, but she needed to get everyone out of the building.

Her initial plan was to trigger the fire alarm and hopefully, that would wake up most of the residents, but that was a bust. She pulled on the red handle that was to the right of the front door, but it didn't set off the alarm.

"Fuck," Gwen coughed to herself. No alarm, no problem. She'd just call 911 herself and inform them on the situation. As she was making the call, Gwen scooted down the first hallway of doors and started banging.

"Wake up!" she yelled as loud as she could while knocking on the first door. Luckily, a drowsy, robed middle-aged woman finally answered Gwen's obnoxious rioting.

"I'll call the cops on your ass!" the woman sassily shouted as she opened the door.

"Already did!" Gwen replied and glanced to the other apartment on the main floor. "There's poisonous gas in here! Cover your mouth, get everyone out now!"

"Wha?" the angered woman looked so confused. "Who the fuck are you?"

"Just do it!" Gwen yelled again as she started banging on the other door. "I already called 911!"

Gwen went floor by floor, door by door, knocking and shouting as much as she could. Throughout all of her banging and screaming, she inhaled whatever those toxic fumes were. Her eyes were burning, her chest was hurting, and she couldn't stop coughing. Perhaps Alistair's plan was to kill Spider-Woman instead of just throwing her off his tail. If she did get out alive, well she was going to hunt him down and whip his ass into tomorrow.

After emptying out the fourth floor, Gwen could hear the blaring of sirens not too far from her location. Gwen's breathing became strenuous and painful; she had to get out of that place pronto. Thankfully, the final set of stairs led to the small building's more or less stable rooftop where fresh air awaited; if you could call New York's air fresh. Gwen staggered and fell to the front corner of the building where she could peer down at the vacated residences along with a couple of emergency vehicles. Some of the people were coughing and wheezing, but they were all actively on their feet. Gwen didn't know anything about what they had been exposed to, so who was to say their fates haven't already been sealed.

Gwen choked out a cough into her hand and to her displeasure, there was blood in it. "Fucking great," she mumbled at herself. "I was hoping my death would be more extravagant than this."

New York City's May air was cool, but Gwen felt like she was melting in her clothes. The world went dim at the corner of Gwen's vision and before she was aware her head slipped forward and her body sprawled face-first on the rooftop. She didn't dream, she didn't detect a single second go by before she felt a shoed toe poke at her shoulder.

"Huh, what?!" Gwen sat bolt upright in a panic. "What's going on?" She could tell that the sun had started to rise, but most of her vision remained blurred.

"Jesus Christ," it was the voice of Detective Terry Lee who spoke to her, much to Gwen's relief. "Spi, what the hell happened to you?"

"Long night," Gwen blinked in an attempt to restore her vision, but it wasn't helping. "I was having a great time huffing chemicals until you came along."

"What are you doing here?" there was concern in his tone.

"I'd ask you the same question," Gwen tried to suppress a cough, but it came out of her anyway. "You're barshing my huzz."

"Spi, you're bleeding," he wasn't amused.

"Where?" Gwen tapped her hands along her torso.

"No," Lee lowered himself onto one knee. "Out of your mouth, Spi."

"Oh yea," Gwen waved a hand at him, "that's normal. Happens all the time."

"You cough up blood on a regular basis?" Lee wanted to examine her closer, but he was concerned that she'd try to bat him away. "We need to take you to a hospital. You're damned lucky that I was the first one up here."

"What are you even doing here?" her words gave a hint of her slur.

"Investigating the attempted murder of twenty-two people from the use of chemical gas," Lee informed her.

"That explains a lot," Gwen gave another pained cough into her hand.

"Those twenty-four people were taken to the hospital, Spi, and-"

"-Are they okay?" Gwen managed to reach out and latch onto Lee's shirt. "Did anyone die?"

"No, no one died," Lee held onto her hand. "A few people are pretty sick, but they'll recover. The gas spread through the hallways first then into their homes. You got them all out on time."

"Good, good," Gwen let go of his shirt and leaned back, but Lee kept his grip on her hand.

"So now, we need to get you to the hospital," he spoke to her slowly. "It looks like you may have gotten the worst of it, Spi." He noted how pale she was, how warm and clammy her hand was; she looked like she was ready to kick the bucket any moment now.

"I'm going to level with you, Terry," Gwen lowered her chin and cringed from the ache in her chest. "I'm blind, I'm a thousand degrees, and I feel like I'm going to die, but you can't take me to a hospital."

"Are you going to fight me?" he doubted she could put up any sort of fight in her condition; the woman was wobbling back in forth just sitting down.

"Okay, no, but maybe," Gwen squinted hoping it would improve her sight, but again, it didn't help. "In case you've forgotten, I'm a wanted killer."

"We won't take you in as the Spider-Woman," Lee expected stubbornness from Spider-Woman; so stubborn she'd rather die. "We can tell them you're an idiot who doesn't know you're not supposed to mix bleach and vinegar."

"Oh, god," Gwen feigned worry. "And I've been doing that at home for years. This explains all the headaches."

"I'm not wasting my time joking with you," Lee stretched his free arm underneath her armpit. "We're going to the hospital."

"Please, Lee, I can't go to a hospital," she begged him; he'd never heard her plead at him with that amount of desperation. "I really can't go."

"So I'm supposed to sit back and watch you die?" Lee lifted her to her feet; she was a lot heavier than she looked.

"No, no, I just need-" Gwen was interrupted by her struggle to inhale for another breath, "-I. Just. Need… I need to go home."

"Okay, so where's home?" he didn't want her to die, but the way she begged him; he'd never heard that much anguish in her voice before. Clearly, there was more to her aversion of hospitals than just the fear of revealing her identity.

"Ha!" Gwen let out a weak, sarcastic noise. "That would be giving away too much, wouldn't it?"

"Okay, wise guy," he grunted while trying to keep her steady. "What then?'

"I'll walk home," she tried to wiggle herself free from his grip, but it wasn't possible.

"You're not walking home," he pulled her forward. "We'll go to my place."

"Well, that's going to look more suspicious, to be honest," Gwen said this and immediately had to gasp for air.

"My car is right in front of the building, it isn't that far," he stopped moving to let her catch her breath. "We just gotta get you down there."

"Uh, is anyone else in the building?" she asked hoarsely.

"Yeah, a couple of my guys are sweeping for evidence," he was pretty sure he knew what she was getting at. If he helped masked vigilante Spider-Woman through a building of witnesses, that would look bad for both of them. Even though she wasn't wearing her Spider outfit, she was going to catch the eye of another officer. So either way, it was going to look suspicious for Lee to drag a dying woman down four flights of stairs.

"So, bear with me," Gwen placed an open palm on his chest to stabilize herself. "You meet me there."

"I meet you there?"

"Yes, you meet me there."

"How is that gonna work?" Lee questioned her.

"I'll jump."

"You'll jump?"

"Yes, I'll jump."

"You're insane," Lee could feel Gwen straining to remove herself from his grip. "You're going to get yourself killed."

"Lee, I've done an accidental free fall from twenty stories in the past," she coughed. "I landed on my ass and all I had to show for it was a bruised tailbone."

"I'm sure that's not a problem when you're not in the middle of dying," he almost couldn't believe how much she was straining against him. If she was this tough in sickness, he didn't want to fight her in health.

"Seriously," Gwen stopped pushing him back. "Point me to the ledge of the building. You can go down, make sure all is clear, and I'll hop down."

"You're insane."

"This isn't news," she responded. "Do you have a better idea?"

"I don't," at this point, Lee had almost dragged Spider-Woman to the roof entrance. "Eventually someone is gonna come up here, so we better get a move on."

"Let go of me," Gwen slowly let go of Lee and waited for him to respond. "I can walk on my own for now."

"You just told me that you're blind," he didn't want to let go of her.

"I can still hear and I'm not a moron. Face me to the edge of the building."

Lee reluctantly removed his arms from her. "I'll tell you when it's safe." He watched her wobble, but she was able to keep herself mostly upright. "You look like death," he added.

"Thanks," she gave him a thumbs up in what she presumed was his general direction.

"Jesus," he muttered incoherently to himself as he entered the stairwell.

Gwen was in one hell of a state. She could only make out lights and basic shapes with her eyes; however, most of the world was a smudged abstract painting. The inside of her chest felt like it was on fire; it hurt to talk and it especially hurt to breathe. On the bright side, she was standing and her hearing was normal. Also on the bright side, she was positive she could survive the small leap to the ground.

"Spi!" a yell came from the street below; it was Lee. "If you're gonna do it, do it now."

And that is exactly what she did; Gwen made a blind jump. She knew how gravity worked and she tried to land feet first, but none of that helped in the end. Gwen Stacy landed on her side and smacked her forehead against the sidewalk.

"Ow," said Gwen.

"Jesus!" said Lee at the exact same time.

If it wasn't so incredibly painful, Gwen would have found the situation absolutely comedic.

"Christ, Spi!" Lee rushed to her.

"I'm fine…" she barely croaked in response. "Let's go."


	15. Chapter 15: Shorter of Breath

There are those in the world who don't understand what it's like to beg for death's embrace. You try to end your life and there are human's out there who can't comprehend why you'd desire that end. These people can't imagine a fate worse than death itself, but there are plenty fates worse than death. For some of us, existing hurts so badly and it hurts all the time. Unless you've felt that pain or lived that pain, you'll never know what it's like to want freedom from it. In death, we are all free.

Terry drove Spider-Woman to his apartment, struggled to walk up several flights of stairs because she refused to take the elevator, and pulled her sorry as into his bedroom and on the bed.

"Hey," Spider-Woman grasped at the vague shape that represented Lee in her vision. "I need you to make me some promises."

"Is that so?" Lee sat down next to her and pushed a pillow underneath her head.

"Yeah," every word she spoke burned her throat and lungs. "Or I'll come back and haunt you."

"You plan on dying?" and he was seriously concerned that she was.

"Uh, no," she coughed out the words. "Um, ah… But I'll do it either way."

"Maybe you need to take it easy for a while."

"Seriously," her tone matched her words. "Don't take me to the hospital; don't look under my mask. Unless I die. If I die, fair game."

"How are you going to stop me from doing either of those?" Lee didn't want to entertain the possibility of her death, but he wasn't hopeful. If she died, what then? If she died, it would be his fault for not doing anything sooner.

"Okay," Gwen took in an excruciating breath. "That's why you're going to promise me. Swear on the name of your god."

Lee knew that the longer he argued with her, the worse off she'd be for it. "Alright, I swear. I swear in God's name that I'll wait until you're dead before I do either of those things."

"Good," she sighed. "Good."

Lee picked up her arm and clasped her pale, limp hand between his. "I know you're not the type to appreciate it, but since I don't know what else to do, I'm going to pray for you." He waited for her to respond, but she had already lost consciousness. "Lord, please… Please save this, this stubborn and relentless woman from an early grave. I'm sure you'd be happy to have her smart ass up in heaven with you, but… But people need her here on Earth… I need her here… With me. Please, don't let her die."

Lee stared down at the greyish complexion of her face which was still covered in blood. Red had dripped from under her mask and across her cheek from where she had smashed her head against the concrete sidewalk. There's no way a normal human would have survived that strong of a blow to the skull, but Spi didn't seem phased by it at the time. Perhaps in comparison to her waning condition, a blow to the head wasn't all that bad. She was a hot mess.

Before getting up to the bathroom, Lee deliberated in his mind for half-an-hour about what he was going to do with the FNSW. Her face was a bloody mess, her forehead wound was bleeding through her mask, and her own breathing was uneven. He knew he had made a promise and he knew he shouldn't have broken it, but he had to examine her head to see what kind of damage she had done to herself. This was the excuse that Lee told himself, but ultimately his motivation was to see her face.

Once Lee returned from his bathroom with a wet cloth, he warily peeled the makeshift mask from her face. Lee had no clue who Gwen Stacy was; he hadn't met her before in his life. Her face was vaguely recognizable, but he couldn't put his finger on it. Gwen Stacy was an average looking individual and besides her naturally bleach-blonde hair, nothing stuck out about her in particular. She seemed so normal to Lee; so human.

Lee used the damp cloth to clean off Spider-Woman's bloodied face. He inspected the cut on her forehead from the fall and noticed that it was barely bleeding at this point. However, he figured she was going to have a nasty bruise for weeks to come. He contemplated how frustrating it must have been for her to hide all her battle wounds from friends and family; although that was on the condition she had friends and family. Was there anyone out there, at this moment, wondering where Spider-Woman was?

After Lee finished cleaning up Spi's bloody and bruised face, he pulled the mask back over her eyes. How long could she last like this for, Lee wondered? All the tenants of the building that Spi had evacuated got out safely; they were barely exposed to the toxic gas. From what Lee had learned so far, the gas was mostly comprised of chlorine; which was used as a weapon in the past during WWI. What kind of person would release chlorine gas in a small apartment building? What was the point? These were questions that Spi could hopefully answer if she ever woke up again.

"I don't know if you can hear me," Lee got up from the bed. "But I'm going to the hospital to, I don't know, talk to a doctor. Maybe I can figure something out; maybe I can do something." What he said to her didn't matter, she never heard a single word of it.

Following Lee's uneventful two-hour trip to the hospital, he returned to the unconscious stranger in his bed. He spoke to a nurse who educated him on the risks and side-effects of chemical gas exposure. She described to Lee a medical condition known as chemical pneumonia which can be caused by exposure to toxic gas. She also, to Lee's dismay, told the detective that the only treatment that exists for chemical pneumonia is supportive. Basically, keep the patient comfortable and hope for the best. However, to Lee's relief, if you didn't die while being exposed to chlorine gas, recovery afterward was highly probable.

"You're going to be alright, Spi," Lee spoke to the woman's unconscious body. Thank God she was going to be okay.

Gwen Stacy woke up alone in a startled panic. She sat upright in the strange queen size bed, gaping around the strange dim room. It was late at night and the bedroom was marginally lit by the stray light of a far off streetlamp. Gwen could hear the muffled noises of vehicles and voices in the distance. She concentrated for a couple of minutes before she was able to identify her location. Black wardrobe across from the foot of the bed, a nightstand similar to something you'd find in a cheap motel, plain, white bedding purchased without a second thought; these were the dressings of Detective Terry Lee's bedroom.

"Lee?" Gwen intended to put more force behind his name, but her sore throat refused her. "Lee?" she said again with more success.

"Jesus," Gwen brushed her palm across her still masked face. She plucked Lee's flimsy, plastic alarm clock from the nightstand to examine its time. The little clock's digital white lights read 2:34am. Gwen recalled that it was morning when Lee had taken her to his place, so was it early morning the next day, she wondered?

Gwen slowly swung a leg over the edge of Lee's bed. Every single muscle in her body ached; standing up was going to be a challenge. Carefully, she dropped her other foot to the floor and stood up. "Oh. My. Fucking. God," she whispered to herself in agony. "Kill me."

"Alright, Spider-Woman," she let out a shaking breath. "We can get home; it'll be fine."

Gwen left the bedroom in search of Lee, thinking she might find him sleeping on the living room couch, but he was nowhere to be found. She was certainly grateful that he got her somewhere safe, didn't take her to a hospital, and hopefully didn't take a peek under her mask, but it was time for her to leave.

"I am so fired," Gwen croaked while stabilizing herself on the living room wall. She shimmied across the wall and to his living room window which, amazingly, wasn't locked. He wasn't even at home and he couldn't be bothered to lock his goddamn window. Gwen pushed it open and leaned out with the front of her torso.

"Webs don't fail me now," she jutted out her arm in an attempt to expel some webbing from her hand; it didn't work. "For fuck sake," she whined at the alley below.

Gwen Stacy, without grace, lifted the rest of her body out the window only to clatter loudly onto the fire escape. "Oh, God," she groaned at the night sky. "Please, Gwen. Let's do this."

Pointing her arm at nothing but the sky, she tried again. It still wasn't working.

"Fucking whatever," she snapped at the world with as much anger as she could muster which wasn't much. "I'll walk home, thanks."

Gwen Stacy walked from Lee's apartment in Sunset Park all the way to her father's home in Forest Hills. She removed her mask for the duration of the almost four-and-a-half-hour long walk through New York. There were plenty of people about town; plenty of unsavory looking folk, too, but few batted an eye at Gwen Stacy. It was common in New York for people to turn a blind eye on individuals who looked like the just experienced the worst night in their life. And Gwen Stacy certainly looked like she'd been to hell and back.

The first problem that Gwen had when she arrived home that morning, was an immediate knock on her bedroom door as she was crawling through her window. She was thankful that she could still cling to walls, not so thankful that someone was bothering her at that inopportune moment.

"Hey, Gwen?" it was May. "Are you in there?"

"Uh, yeah," Gwen couldn't speak with a clear voice.

"Are you sick?" May replied through the door. "You don't sound too good, hun."

"I'm busy, May," all Gwen could think about was using the goddamn bathroom and having a shower. She smelled and looked like absolute death. "Can you come back later?"

"Okay, hun. I'll make you some breakfast if you wanna come down in a bit?"

"Yeah, oh, that's-" Gwen hadn't paid attention to the empty pit in her stomach until May mentioned food, "-sounds good."

Showered, clean, and feeling like fresh garbage, Gwen observed herself in the bathroom mirror. There was a gash surrounded by a swollen bruise at the crown of her forehead. At no point, did Gwen remember hitting her head which evidently was a sure sign that she concussed herself when it happened.

"Pour salt on my wounds," Gwen mumbled to herself as she poked at the sore. No amount of make-up was going to hide that stinking forehead welt. On the bright side, Gwen was quick to heal, so the mark would likely only last a day or two. Though, none of that helped her when it came to May.

With tremendous trepidation, Gwen Stacy picked up her personal phone off her desk. To avoid being stalked and spied on by Google, Gwen only carried a cheap flip phone with her when she went on the prowl. The flip phone was a dated piece of trash that was good for almost nothing, but she couldn't be making calls to the detective with her personal number. Therefore, Gwen hadn't seen her phone since Sunday night and much to her wrath, fury, and rage, but not surprise, it was Tuesday morning.

"Called it," she was referring to when she said that she was so fired. Gwen Stacy missed another day of work, a second day of work, at Oscorp with no notice. This was also the third day she missed work after making up her dog bite excuse for Friday.

"Here we go again," she sighed at herself. Two missed calls from work with one voicemail, a missed call from her father, a missed call from May, and multiple texts from Mary Jane.

Gwen cringed when she listened to the voicemail from Oscorp. It was Gary, the dude who hired her, calling to inform her that she was being let go. Gary seemed keen on Gwen, so his tone of disappointed carried the message. It was probably too late for Gwen to apply for another summer internship and unlikely that anyone would want her now. Maybe the lovely May was looking for a good Samaritan to volunteer down at the shelter? Or maybe that was a bad idea when Gwen considered another chance encounter with Dr. Strange. Or maybe that was just okay.

Before sauntering to the kitchen to meet May, Gwen pulled a black knitted cap over her bruised forehead. It would have to suffice for the next couple of days.

As soon as Gwen entered the dining area, May couldn't help but comment, "What's with the hat?"

"It's called style, May," Gwen retorted as she sat at the table. "All the cool kids are doing it."

"And since when have you cared about the cool kids?" May placed a delicious smelling plate of food on the table in front of Gwen. It had eggs, pancakes, bacon, sausages, and hash-browns on it; it was a plate of Gwen's dreams.

"Since I've been a cool kid," Gwen peered longingly at the plate of food.

"Gwen," May caught the young girl's eye. "You look and sound very sick."

"I know," Gwen huffed out a raspy breath. "I've been getting that a lot lately."

May placed an additional plate on the table which was stacked with Gwen's favorite toast; cheese and sourdough rye. "I haven't seen you in two days; is everything okay?"

"It is now," Gwen smiled at all of the food. There was nothing in the world that could have made her happier in that very moment.

"Is it-" May leaned next to Gwen's ear, "-Spider-Woman stuff?"

"When isn't it?" Gwen could no longer wait; she picked up a fork and started spearing the food on her plate.

"So long as you're okay," May joined Gwen at the table. "How was your date on Sunday?"

"Awful," Gwen spoke through a mouthful of pancake.

"No, really?" May sounded hurt. "What happened?"

"Oh," Gwen, with discomfort, swallowed the piece of food in her mouth. "Turns out that doc is a total asshole to people."

"What?" May crooked her head to the side. "I didn't get that impression from him… I mean, I heard him bragging plenty of times, but… How odd."

"It isn't odd, May," Gwen poked at her eggs. "He shits on people that he thinks he's better than. He probably doesn't mind you because you're a literal fucking saint."

"Was he mean to you, Gwen?" May's brows raised with unease. "Because I wouldn't expect you to take that kind of crap from anyone."

"No, May. He wasn't mean to me." Sometimes Gwen found frustration in having to explain anything to May. She was too polite and nice to catch a hint. "He was an ass to MJ's date and then he went and did other stupid shit. I told you that he's a fucking weirdo and an asshole."

"Gwen," here came May's stern mother voice. "You shouldn't talk about people like that."

"Ugh, ah," Gwen exhaled feeling a sharp pain in her chest.

"Honey?" May's voice transformed back into one of concern. "Are you sure you're okay? It sounds like you have a terrible cold?"

"I wish," Gwen kept chomping on her holy breakfast.

"Well, I'm sorry about Stephen," May got up to grab Gwen a glass of water. "Are you going to talk to him about it?"

"May, I've already been through this," she stared up at her step-mother when she placed the glass on the table. "I'm paraphrasing, but I pretty much said I never want to see him again."

"Is that how you feel?"

"How I feel?" Gwen's emotions towards Dr. Strange were an enigma to herself. He had been nice and she talked to him, but then he acted poorly and there was something about him that felt sad. "I don't know, May. How can you truly know how you feel about a person you've known for like, over a week?"

"Sometimes you just know."

"Well, I don't know," Gwen wheezed after consuming more of her breakfast. "Mary Jane said he's bad news, maybe she's right."

"Mary Jane?" A small laugh escaped May's mouth, to her shame. "I uh, sorry. I don't mean to laugh. But really, Gwen? Mary Jane and men… Well, I shouldn't say anything. She was with Peter and Peter was wonderful."

"I think I'll just let it go."

"Let it go?" May narrowed her gaze at Gwen.

"Yeah like, not think about it," Gwen explained. "I have enough to worry about as it is."

"Gwen," May got back up from the table and removed her daughter's clean plate. "Aren't you going to be late for work?" she said as she turned her head to the kitchen clock that hung above the stove.

"I was fired," Gwen bowed. "Too many unexcused absences in a short period of time. Basically, I've fucked that up."

"You know you can always come work at the shelter," May placed the dirtied plates in the sink and smiled to Gwen. "I know it doesn't pay, but I won't fire you if you don't show up."

"I accept your offer," Gwen smiled back. "And I'll do my best for you."

"I know you will, hun." May placed her hand on her chin with a quizzical expression. "Have you ever thought about taking a vacation from being the Spider-Woman? You can only burn both ends of the candle for so long."

"I don't pay attention to the news, but I know you and dad do. What do you see?"

"I know what you're getting at, Gwen." May saw Spider-Woman in the news almost every week. Most recently there had been continuous updates and questions related the killing of that criminal dirt-bag, but May already knew that Gwen Stacy was no killer. But in all these accusations, Spider-Woman was still saving people's lives. "Yesterday morning an apartment full of people was saved by a masked woman. Some of the people living in the building were pretty sure it was Spider-Woman who saved them. I'm going to say they're probably right."

"Maybe that's a bad example…" Gwen felt like she had been partly responsible for what transpired that night. If it wasn't for the Spider-Woman, would Alistair Smythe have threatened those people to begin with? At what point does Spider-Woman endanger the public more than she protects them? How far was Kingpin willing to go to stop her?

"But you're right," May couldn't have been more proud of Gwen. "People need Spider-Woman; New York needs Spider-Woman. I know you do your best when you're out there Gwen."

"I try," Gwen barely uttered. "But nothing's ever good enough."

"You'll always be good enough," May sat down and reached her hands across the table. "Really, you can't let people get to you. You're a tough girl, Gwen, and those people, they don't know how special you are."

Special, Gwen thought. Everyone is special and everyone thinks they're special.

"You have something nice to wear?" It seemed like a non-sequitur coming from May.

"Sorry, what?" Gwen was confused.

"I know maybe you don't want to go now since you're a bit sick? But I know your dad invited you to come out to the PBA fundraiser."

"I got all week to get over whatever this is." Whatever it was being some sort of gas poisoning. Gwen was no chemist, that was always something Pete was good at. "So I'll come."

"You have something nice to wear?" May repeated herself.

"I have clothes," Gwen scoffed at May's remark.

"Gwen, I've been through your closet, so I know you don't."

"Jesus Christ, May," Gwen was outraged that May would even dare go through her stuff. "How long have you been snooping through my stuff for? Have you forgotten that I'm a grown woman?"

"I was just seeing if you had a dress," May rebuked Gwen for her comment. "And I did notice that you don't."

"I have a skirt." Gwen wasn't going to get in the discussion of personal boundaries with May again.

"Hun, you need a nice dress. I'll get you a nice one this week."

"No, no, no, no," Gwen pushed out the chair from beneath her to stand up. "I think that's something I should do myself."

"Gwen, you dress like sixteen-year-old goth; long sleeves, long pants, or baggy t-shirts. The nicest thing I've seen you wear is a blouse and that one skirt you own. You got to learn to dress like a grown woman."

"I can dress however I want." It was unbelievable how May would treat Gwen like a teenager; her dad did it, too. Gwen didn't have a normal adolescence and May never had a daughter and Gwen's dad didn't see her for almost a third of her life. There were all these strange circumstances surrounding these three people. They all missed a part of something in their own lives. Maybe the unusual relationship that the three of them had was making up for that fact.

"Okay, but just buy a nice dress? Like a fancy dress, okay?" May didn't want to pressure the sick girl any further.

"I'll get something nice, I promise." The problem that Gwen Stacy had was that she spent the better part of seven years of her life being scientifically tortured. With these scientific experiments came not only mental scars but physical ones as well. She had scars and mild deformations on her torso, back, biceps, and upper thighs for one reason or another. Some of those scars came from regular tissue samples, a few others were for more intense reasons. Half the time Gwen wasn't even sure why they cut into her.

"Speaking of clothes," May was satisfied with Gwen's response, "why weren't you wearing your costume when you saved all those people?"

"I only had to one outfit," Gwen admitted. "It got messed up pretty bad when I got shot. Pete and I only ever made the one and I… I haven't had the time to make another one."

"Pete made it with you?" warmth filled May's expression. "That was a really sweet thing to do."

"It was," Gwen softly smiled back. "We made a lot of cool things together… I really miss that."

"Peter was always proud of you, Gwen. I know he still would be."

"I miss him all the time," Gwen's eyes peered off blankly. "I wish I could have him back."

"I do too, hun," May kept her warn smile on Gwen. "Don't worry, he's keeping an eye on us. He knows we're doing our best."

"Sure," Gwen said, but she wasn't a believer in that kind of supernatural nonsense. There was nothing mystical or special about the world. Gwen couldn't judge anyone for imagining that the world could be such a fantastical place; it certainly helped people cope with the harshness of reality, but that wasn't for Gwen Stacy. It was more comforting for Gwen to think that the Universe was mindless and meaningless. Maintaining the idea that the Universe could consciously throw you to the hands of fate was madness. Because what did Gwen Stacy do to deserve years of torture? What did Gwen Stacy do to deserve the burden her powers had brought? What did Gwen Stacy do to deserve such a fate?


	16. Chapter 16: The Pain in Me

Being honest is always easier said than done. We want to be honest, or we have no commitment to honesty, or we lack honesty for the pleasure of the experience. Being honest all the time about everything can be a detriment to our lives and society itself. We've evolved to lie for better or for worse. For most of us, our lives become woven with complications and deceptions; all we know is our self-constructed lie. We tangle ourselves into a mess of existence to where there is no point of return. When someone decides to shatter your web, you have nothing left.

When Terry Lee woke up that night, it was because someone had whispered his name. Or possibly it only sounded like a whisper because he was asleep at the time. The second time they said his name, it was loud and clear. Lee shifted his heavy eyes toward the calling voice. Standing above his bed with her head angled down at him, was the masked vigilante Spider-Woman.

"Spi?" he squinted through the dark. "Is that you?"

"No. It's someone who just happens to sound and dress like her," Gwen quipped at him. "Of course it's me."

"I got it," Lee spoke as he sat up in his sleepy disorientation. "You didn't return my calls, so I assumed you were dead meat. I figured it was a matter of time before your masked faced showed up in a morgue."

"You forget that I'm also invincible," Gwen took a step away from the bed to allow Lee enough room to get up.

"No, you're not." Lee rose from his bed to study the woman. "What am I supposed to do if I lose you, Spi?"

"Go on living your detective life," Gwen passively shrugged at his worries. Despite this gesture, however, she did truly appreciate the concern that Lee felt towards her. He was a good man and an even better man for putting up with her risible façade. "If anything, I'd hope you'd find the bastard whodunit."

Without regrets and without permission, Lee wrapped his sizeable arms around the Spider. "I thought you were dead," he spoke as he held onto her.

Gwen did not reciprocate his hug but replied, "Don't worry, big guy. I'm not going anywhere yet." She let a few seconds pass in silence. "Now, please let me go," she eventually asked.

"Sorry," Lee said as he backed off. If you asked Gwen Stacy, she would have told you that the detective looked downright embarrassed over what he did, but she refrained from teasing him about it.

"Did you find Frankie?" Gwen inquired once Lee found his composure.

"He was dead." Lee plucked a zip-up from the floor to put on. "Now, you tell me about that building. What was going on there?"

"Hey, wait a second." Gwen stepped to the side as Lee pushed past her and made his way to the living room light-switch. "You finish your story first. Did you find anything suspicious?"

"Should I have?" Lee squinted as he flicked on the switch.

"You're a detective; isn't that part of your job?"

"Besides the dead body of Franklin Roscoe, we found nothing." Lee disappeared from Gwen's line of sight as he wandered into the kitchen. "But I'll tell you about something interesting that happened."

"Don't leave me hanging," Gwen shouted from the bedroom entrance.

"Pretty sure they were looking to frame you for the murder." When Lee came back out of the kitchen, he had a bottle of whiskey in hand.

"I had a feeling they would."

"When me, Keys, and D'ambrosio arrived at Franklin's apartment, the place was locked up and no one was around." Lee placed down the bottle and a glass on a deshelled stand that sat behind his couch. "So, some guy shows up after us, uh, his name was Arlo Dixon. Not only was he surprised to see us there, the first thing he claims is that he saw the Spider-Woman do it. He says that he got freaked out after you shot Frankie boy and ran because he figured he was next."

"Obviously, that's all bullshit." Gwen moved out of the bedroom doorway and closer to Lee.

"Well, no shit Sherlock." Lee opened the bottle and poured himself a drink. "So, we call this guy on his shit. How'd she get in, I ask? He says you came in through the front door. Yeah, and you conveniently locked it behind you? Doubt that. Also, you need a key-code to use the elevator. Now Mr. Dixon is claiming he didn't see you break-in, so you must have snuck in through the window. All the windows were locked, so if you did break-in, the alarm would have gone off."

"Wow, what'd I do to Arlo Dixon? Guy clearly has a chip for me." Gwen peered at Lee as he took a sip from his newly poured beverage.

"It was probably Arlo's job to come in and set up the whole thing to make it look like you broke in. But no one saw you and the building security camera didn't catch you either."

"Well, good. Because I didn't do it." Gwen tapped at the bottom of her chin. "I did get a recording of Alistair Smythe at Frankie's apartment, with all the bodyguards, too."

"Are you serious?"

"Uh, yeah," Gwen pulled out her shabby flip-phone to show Lee the video.

"What year do you live in?" Lee remarked on the ludicrous device.

"1930, but I do my best in your fangled modern-day with your microwaves," Gwen quipped at Lee to provoke a smile from him. "It's my Batphone."

"I can't see a thing," Lee remarked with a sneer. "This video is shit, Spi."

"Okay," Gwen snapped the phone shut, "my point is, it was this Alistair Smythe guy who did it. I got a picture of his plate, too. I need to track him down."

"Right now we have no suspects for Franklin's murder and what you have isn't enough for us to go by."

"I'm not expecting you guys to go out and make an arrest," Gwen jabbed a finger in Lee's direction. "I'm expecting you to help me find him so I can find Kingpin."

"You still haven't told me why you and an apartment full of people were gassed the other night."

Spider-Woman went on to explain to Lee that Alistair Smythe had lured her to the apartment and triggered the gas as a diversion. Although Gwen still wasn't sure how he did it.

"You did the right thing," Lee tried to console her worries. "I'm sure we can find that bastard again."

"Did you find anything in the apartment?" Gwen wondered.

"Nothing that points to who did it," Lee shrugged as he took a sip from his drink. "There wasn't any ventilation in the building, so whoever did it literally mixed some kind of bucket of chemicals and let it fill the building from each floor. It was a shit ton of chemicals I can say that much."

"Well, none of that matters," Gwen shook her head at the detective. "I know it was Alistair Smythe. You gotta help me find him."

"I mean, I can try. Just because someone exists doesn't mean they're easy to find."

"Do your best," Gwen said as she stepped away from Lee and to his living room window. "You should really keep this thing locked, you know," Gwen gestured at the window with an open palm.

"You're the only one who ever breaks in here, Spi." Lee frowned at the woman as she turned to open the window. "Please, be careful. Don't, don't try to get yourself killed out there."

"I never try to get myself killed," she hopped onto the fire escape. "Not my fault that people don't appreciate my goodly deeds."

As she was want to do, Gwen swept away without another word to the detective. Detective Terry Lee worried too much about the Spider-Woman; it wasn't a good sign in Gwen's mind. People have a tendency to make bad decisions when it came to those they cared about. Given the ultimatum between saving someone you loved or saving the rest of the world, most of us would choose to save the one we loved.

"Isn't this a bit swanky?" Gwen commented as she entered The Waldorf Astoria, arm in arm with her father who was wearing his NYPD dress uniform. Somehow, and only May would know how, May booked the entire Grand Ballroom in the Waldorf for the Patrolmen's Benevolent Society's fundraiser. Gwen figured that May would have opted for something more practical and a little bit more affordable.

"May said you got to put in to get out," George strained his own neck peering around the gold and white auditorium. "But I'm with you; this does seem like a bit much."

"It is the first year May has organized it," Gwen added. "She is very good at pulling strings and getting her way."

"You know it," George laughed in response. "I think we've both learned you can't say no to May."

Gwen's eyes worked like an efficient targeting system that helped her suss out what mattered to her most in life: food. There were a few tables for sitting, but most of the ballroom in front of the stage was left vacated for dancing if that was your thing. What Gwen's thing certainly was, was the elaborate table of endless hors d'oeuvres that lined the left side of the room. If Gwen was going to get anything from that night, it was going to be as much food as her heart desired.

George caught Gwen staring at the distant table. "Why don't you get some food and I'll catch up with you later."

"You don't have to tell me twice," Gwen raised a brow and released her father's arm. "You'll know where to find me."

The last person that Detective Terry Lee expected to see at the PBA fundraiser was the one and only Spider-Woman. He would refer to her decision to be there as hiding in plain sight. He didn't want to stare at the woman, but it was almost impossible not to for a few reasons. One reason is the obvious reason; it was fucking Spider-Woman. Here she was of all places; who did she even come with? The other reason was that she looked amazing.

The woman, who he didn't know the name of, wore a knee-length, long-sleeve, peach-colored lace dress. On top of that, there were no signs that the woman had ever been injured. He witnessed her smash her face against a concrete side-walk earlier that week, but there was no evidence of that incident now. It was bizarre to see her look so normal; so human. It was easy for Terry to forget that Spider-Woman was still a person like everyone else.

Gwen Stacy noticed that Detective Terry Lee was staring at her, but she pretended not to see him. The first thought that occurred to Gwen was that the detective knew that she was Spider-Woman. After all, Gwen Stacy had been unconscious on his bed in his apartment for over a day. Even though he promised not to look under the mask, that didn't mean he kept said promise. There was also the possibility Lee didn't peek under Gwen's mask and he was legitimately just staring at her. Either way, she was going to ignore the detective for now.

Before Gwen Stacy was able to start her binge on high-end appetizers, she caught someone else's eye; or rather, he caught hers.

"Oh my god," Gwen mouthed to herself. Twenty feet away from her was the unbelievable Dr. Strange. Of course, she thought. Rich swanky charity for rich swanky people and he was a rich swanky ass; where else would he be right now? Gwen wouldn't admit to herself that she wasn't exactly upset to see the doctor, more so she was just surprised.

It wasn't long before the doctor saw Gwen looking his way. "Shit," Gwen murmured with annoyance.

The doctor smiled at the lovely young woman and made his way toward her. Gwen, realizing she couldn't avoid him for the entire night, waited next to the table for him.

"Don't let me stop you," were the first words out of his mouth when he noticed Gwen was holding a plate.

"I've lost my appetite," Gwen glanced back at the table and put the plate down.

"I didn't think I was that repulsive," he said jokingly. "You look lovely as always."

"Thanks," Gwen turned her head down.

"I wasn't expecting to see you here," he gave her his charming grin. "Nice to see you again, as always."

"My father's a police captain," Gwen pointed to the opposite side of the room where George was talking to May. "I'm his plus one. And you know, May is running this whole affair."

"Of course," Stephen chimed. "A saint if I ever met one."

"She sure is," Gwen sighed while beholding her step-mother's angelic appearance. It couldn't be said enough, May was a goddess among mortals both in beauty and spirit.

"I know I've already said this, but I wanted to apologize again. For upsetting you."

"Okay," Gwen rubbed at the corner of her eye. "But you're not apologizing for being an ass to my best friend's date?"

"Well…" Strange thought carefully about his next words. "I'd rather be sincere when it comes to you."

"So, does that mean you can't sincerely apologize for being a dick because you're not sorry?" Gwen scrunched her eyebrows at him. "How thoughtful of you."

"That's perhaps not precisely what I'm getting at. I'm sorry, is what I'm trying to express to you."

"You are mind-boggling," Gwen shook her head back and forth. "Not only were you a dick, you almost got yourself killed. And you're sorry?"

"Yes," he gave her a quizzical look. "I shouldn't have said those… Things. I shouldn't have said anything."

"That's great, thanks." Gwen puckered her mouth and turned away from him.

"Gwen," Stephen wrapped his hand around her wrist. "How's your arm?"

She stopped to glance down at his hand. "It's healed. I guess, I guess I should thank you for that much."

"Did you take the stitches out yourself?" he sounded startled.

"Yeah, it's fine," Gwen scratched at the side of her head. "It's as if it never happened."

"Can't say I'm not jealous," Strange slowly let go of her wrist. "You're truly remarkable."

"If being shot in the first place is remarkable, then yeah," Gwen jabbed back.

"Can I bother you to dance?" Stephen gestured to the stage with his arm. "Unless you're busy."

"I'm not a good dancer," Gwen replied.

"Everyone says that," Stephen shrugged at her. "And most people are absolutely passible at it."

"I'm not sure if you're trying to be insulting or complementing."

"To you? Only ever complementing," he continued to hold out his hand. "To others? Always a bit of both."

"Fine," Gwen took in a deep breath. "But this isn't a favor for pity or something because you helped me. If anything really, you owe me."

"I can only hope you'd dance with me because you genuinely want to. I wouldn't be interested in otherwise," Stephen simpered at her. "But you're right, I owe you my life."

"I'll remember that for next time I need live bait," she smirked back.

Once Stephen led Gwen to the dance floor, he placed his hand on her waist and pulled her near.

"Um…" The move flustered Gwen but also caused her to blush. "You know I could break you in half, right?"

"That just makes everything more exciting," he teased her.

"You have problems," Gwen replied with a flat tone, but she relented by placing her arm on top of his shoulder and reaching for his other hand.

A few moments of silent dancing passed before Stephen spoke up, "See, you're not so bad."

"Passible, like most people," she twisted her head away from him as she repeated his previous sentiment.

"When I was nineteen, I lost my sister," Stephen said this to Gwen, seemingly out of nowhere. "She drowned in a lake back home when the two of us went for a swim that summer. I watched her sink and by the time I found her and pulled her to the shore… It was too late. I couldn't save her."

Gwen silently gazed over Stephen's shoulder, not knowing what to say in response. Often people don't want to be consoled or soothed over their woes; sometimes we just want to tell somebody the truth.

"Only a few years later my mother became ill… She was diagnosed with ALS," Stephen paused his swaying before continuing to speak. "I tried everything to help her, but it was never enough. She died after two long years of pain and suffering. I couldn't save her either."

"People die," Gwen whispered next to his ear. "That doesn't make it your fault."

"Three years ago my father also fell ill, but at that time… By then I couldn't deal with any more death. I refused to see my dying father." Stephen then put his hands over Gwen's shoulders so he could look into her face. He was familiar with Gwen's constant visage of dark sorrow; he recognized it because it was reflected in himself. "I refused to go to his funeral. My brother was outraged; he hated me. I ignored all of his calls and texts, so he came to visit me in New York. He came to my apartment, obviously to berate me, and he did. But I wanted the chance to explain why I did what I did... That chance was taken from me."

"I don't- What happened?" Gwen gaped at the doctor with her arms at her side.

"He stormed out of my apartment and I chased after him. Then, as I watched him run across the street, he got hit by a truck. And he died… Immediately. I couldn't save him either. I couldn't save any of them."

"Jesus Christ, Stephen," Gwen barely spoke in response. "That's horrible."

"It is," he nodded at her. "And it's what life is all about; taking away everything you love. I've dedicated my own life to saving others, but I couldn't save any of them."

"Uh, why-" Gwen blinked at him, "-are you telling me this?"

"Because I know you understand what it's like to have your life taken from you. I know that you lost your brother and your mother and that you lost almost seven years of your life, Gwen Stacy." There was more to the doctor's intent than just divulging his personal trauma; he wanted to know what happened to Gwen Stacy.

"And how do you know about that?" Gwen's eyes glazed over; she stared into nothingness.

"Like most people, I read the news," he moved the dazed Gwen closer to himself once again and continued to dance with her. "Well, and of course your friend unintentionally mentioned you'd gone missing."

"Everybody has lost somebody at some point," she began to unconsciously frown. "Just ask anyone in this room, they know what it's like."

"But what I care about is what happened to you," he examined her desolate expression. "Or have you really forgotten what transpired all those years ago?"

"No," the look on her face softened. "If anything, I wish I could forget, I want to forget."

"But it's made you the person you are today," Stephen added.

"That's a lame excuse," she snorted in feigned laughter. "That's a lame excuse for torturing innocent people."

"Torturing?" Stephen frowned. "I saw the scars on your arm, Gwen. Considering how fast you heal, well… It's easy to assume they happened before you got your powers."

"They… Tortured us," with woeful eyes, she focused on him. "They experimented on us… They, they cut us open and… And they did awful… It was awful."

"Who were 'they', Gwen?" Stephen stopped moving again and latched on to the side of her arms.

"I don't know," she stared into his eyes. "They- they didn't speak English. The one girl there… She said, she said they were speaking Mandarin… She told me things before she died. Before they killed her."

"Gwen, how come you haven't told anyone about this?"

"Because it's complicated," Gwen's eyes reddened.

"You were kidnapped and tortured," Stephen tried to reason with her. "That's not complicated, that's illegal."

"You can't understand what happened," a single tear streaked down her left cheek. "You weren't there. You didn't see what I saw… You didn't- nobody… What I did."

"What do you mean?" Stephen tilted his head at her. "What did you do?"

"Something bad," Gwen murmured while lowering her gaze. "I can't talk about it."

"I'm sorry, Gwen," Stephen removed his arms from her. "This probably isn't the venue for upsetting you. Especially if your father is watching us."

Gwen pushed a tear away from her eye and attempted to shake herself out of the trance. But there was something else; a terrible feeling began festering inside her gut. It was the unmistakable feeling she got before she was stricken with one of her disabling migraines.

"Gwen?" Stephen surveyed Gwen's expression as the color left her face. "Are you alright?"

"I need to lay down," Gwen cringed. "Sometimes I get migraines and…"

"Say no more," Stephen placed his palm on the small of her back and started guiding her forward. "It's a hotel, there should be plenty of places for you to lie down."

From across the ballroom, Lee had been watching Gwen Stacy, the woman whose name he did not know, talk and dance with the gentlemen in the well-tailored attire. He had no idea who the man was and he had no idea who half the people there were, to be honest. What caused Lee a mild amount of anger, was that she didn't seem overjoyed to be in the man's presence. In fact, Spider-Woman appeared to be quite upset, although there was no way for Lee to determine exactly what she was upset about.

Lee had no clue what sort of relationship Spi had with this guy; he didn't know if it was romantic or not. The two seemed close, so it was possible that they could have been discussing something personal. What bugged Lee the most was that it bugged him at all. A part of Lee felt crushed when he saw the two of them together, but what was he expecting? Of course, the woman had a normal life and friends and family outside of her alternate persona. But Lee felt so close to Spider-Woman; he thought he knew who she really was.

Gwen's only goal was to keep herself upright as Stephen led her into the hotel lobby.

"My friend here isn't doing very well," Stephen was trying to hold Gwen straight as he conversed with the pristine and proper gentleman who attended the hotel's front desk. "She needs somewhere to lie down for a few minutes."

"Is that so?" the man spoke in a condescending tone as he glared at Stephen.

"Yes," Stephen leered at the concierge. "And if you've ever had the pleasure of experiencing a migraine, maybe you could sympathize with the girl. Or maybe you can just exercise your ability to empathize if that's something you're capable of."

The concierge stared at pale, ill Gwen Stacy, and then back at the doctor. "Alright," he walked out from behind the counter. "I can take you to the nearest unoccupied room… I can contact an ambulance if she is in need of medical services."

"I'm a doctor," Stephen could tell Gwen was slipping into unconsciousness; it was probably for the best. "I can handle it."

"She looks very ill," the attendant observed Gwen's inability to keep herself steady. "Are you sure she's going to be alright?"

"I'm sure it'll pass," Stephen followed the man into an open elevator.

When Stephen got Gwen Stacy Damsel in Distress inside the hotel room, he had to carry her to the bed. Under any other circumstances on any other given day, the scene could have been interpreted as romantic. Stephen Strange carrying the lovely Gwen Stacy into a modestly lavish hotel suite adorned with golden draperies and one-thousand thread count ivory sheets. To Stephen's dismay, now was not the time for such thoughts.

"You're heavier than you look," Stephen commented as he put her down on the bed. "Do you have any medication?"

"At… home…" Gwen could barely respond.

"How convenient," Stephen stared down at the suffering woman. "I'll go get you some ibuprofen then, well so long as you're not allergic."

Gwen Stacy was no longer able to respond to the doctor's inquiries. Instead, Gwen Stacy had another terrible dream.


	17. Chapter 17: Up Against Your Will

How often do you question your own sanity? Do normal people ever stop to question their own mental stability or their own ability to reason? Have you ever stopped to observe the world around you and realize that you've lost your mind? Everything you are; is any of it real? Everything you see; is any of it real? Do you ever think that if you reach far enough outward that you'll break through the canopy of your own reality? When you do, everything will slip through and nothing will be as you remembered it.

A thick canvas of darkness coated in shimmering flecks of light hung across the sky. An ethereal glow emanated from the winding road and tangled branches. The world had been drained of all its color and of all its movements. The air was dry and stagnant, reeking from burning fumes of oil, tar, and dirt. Past the writhing road and through the shoots and beams of tattered trees was a vehicle.

The vehicle had been contorted into a black mass of unidentifiable metal. In the passenger seat alone was a man who had been distorted into a mess. Blood endlessly flowed from the unidentifiable, jumbled man, creating a forever expanding pool of brilliant vermillion. In that abyss of infinite blood, a familiar face was reflected back at Gwen Stacy. She kneeled into the puddle, reaching her fingertips across its surface.

"Dr. Strange?" she spoke in both the dream and reality.

"Gwen Stacy?" The doctor's looming figure came into focus as Gwen strained to open her eyes.

"What's going on?" She glanced around the opulent room trying to regain her bearings.

"You're at the Waldorf Astoria," he said while he sat next to the prone woman lying on the hotel bed. "You were suffering from a migraine, so I brought you here to lie down."

"Yeah, yeah," Gwen batted at the air and set herself onto her elbows. "I remember that… I seem to be making a habit of waking up in mysterious places."

"Is that so?" the doctor raised a brow at the young woman. "You might want to reconsider that hobby. Although, that is none of my business."

"Don't worry, I'm not frolicking around town with a bunch of men."

"And why would I worry about that?" a slight curl formed at the corner of his mouth.

"You seem like the type who would worry about something like that."

"Well, you seem to be doing better," the curl transformed into a smirk. "How do you feel?"

"Like I've been hit by a train." Gwen collapsed back onto the bed and sighed.

"Have you ever been hit by a train?" Stephen asked the girl in curiosity; who was to say what had or had not happened to the ever so amazing Spider-Woman.

"No, I've never been hit by a train. I was hit by a car once-" Gwen stopped to reconsider her words, "-I mean… Not including being in a car accident."

"Of course," the doctor regretted having asked at all. "I shouldn't have mentioned it."

"It doesn't matter. It's fine, whatever." Gwen stretched her arms forward to pull herself into a sitting position. "How long was I out for?" she asked.

"Twenty minutes," Stephen flipped his left wrist over to glimpse at his watch. "Give or take."

"Oh goodie, so I haven't missed the rest of the party," Gwen sarcastically chirped.

"Unfortunately not." As Stephen stood up, he tugged at the bottom of his suit jacket and looked over to Gwen. "But if you want, I can take you home."

"No, no," she grunted while shuffling her body to the side of the bed. "My dad really wanted me to meet some people and I gotta be here for May."

"I'm sure they'd all understand," he said to her while offering her his hand.

Gwen extended her arm to grab his hand, but the second they made contact she felt a sharp burst of heat leave the tips of her fingers.

Startled, the doctor whipped his hand away from her touch. "Ouch," he said with a dull voice.

"I'm sorry, I…" Gwen gaped at the palm of her hand, flexing it repeatedly as her fingertips tingled.

"Static shock," is what Stephen offered her as an explanation.

Gwen kept wiggling her fingers until the sensation of the shock dissipated. "Are you sure you're okay?" she asked him.

"It hurt," Stephen lifted his hand to examine it. "I'll be honest; I wouldn't want to do it again."

Gwen nodded at him as she stood up of from the bed. She patted at her dress's skirt, trying to push the wrinkles out of it. Once Gwen was satisfied that nothing was amiss, she took a step forward. As she planted her foot down, a shot of pain clambered its way back into Gwen's skull.

"Maybe you should lay back down?" Without hesitation, Stephen moved next to Gwen to place his palm on her abdomen for support.

"It's okay." Gwen deeply inhaled to straighten out her spine. "I'll be fine," she said as she pivoted her head to face the doctor. When she saw his grey eyes blinking back at her, she felt her stomach sink. She could picture his face mirrored in the pool of vermillion blood from her dream.

"You don't look alright." Stephen could feel her pounding pulse; he watched her forehead begin to perspire.

"No, really," Gwen quickly huffed before pushing him away. "I'll be okay."

"Does this happen to you often?" He studied her shaking breaths as he allowed her some space.

"More often then I'd like." Gwen closed her eyes to breathe and calm herself.

"As a doctor, I would suggest bringing your medication with you instead of leaving it at home. You know, where it isn't helpful." he frowned at her, but it went unnoticed.

"My dad tells me that all the time." She then opened her eyes to exhale. "But now, I should really get back to him before he starts to wonder."

"Starts to wonder what?"

"Starts to wonder why I'm making such poor life decisions."

"I'm not that bad," the doctor grinned at her, but he noticed that she refused to look in his direction.

"Right, says you." Gwen risked another step forward, thankfully there were no repercussions this time.

As the two rode the elevator back to the main lobby, Gwen could sense the penetrating stare that Stephen was giving her.

"Are you ignoring me now?" Stephen asked.

"I'm not ignoring you." Gwen kept her eyes forward as the elevator came to a stop.

"I suddenly get the feeling that you're ignoring me." Stephen wedged himself in front of Gwen before she could get off the elevator.

Gwen turned her head down.

"See," he pointed at her. "You won't even look at me."

"That's not true," she darted her eyes to him then back down. The short glimpse of his face reminded her of the dream.

"You did it again." He witnessed the flash of panic cross her face. "What's going on?"

"It's nothing," she finally stared up at him with wide eyes, "It's nothing."

"You have the look of someone who just had their dog shot."

"What kind of expression is that?" Gwen could feel herself shaking as she tried to push the dream out of her consciousness.

"Okay-" the elevator attempted to close itself, but Stephen held it open with his forearm, "-You look like you've seen a ghost. Is that better?"

"I don't know what I saw." Her eyes reddened as she fixated them on the doctor's still face.

Preventing Stephen from probing further, a light yet shrill voice spoke up from behind him, "Stephen?"

"Elissa," Stephen spoke before straining a smile while he turned to the calling woman.

Gwen gave Stephen a solid nudge forward as she shimmied out of the elevator from behind him.

"Who the hell is this?" Elissa spat the moment she saw Gwen Stacy.

Gwen was enthralled by the long-legged woman's crimson dress and blood-red lips. It was reminiscent of the vermillion pool that she couldn't eradicate from her mind's eye. Her extensive locks of jet-black hair were like that colorless night; her flowing silk dress was like that infinite abyss.

"Just a friend, Elissa," Stephen kept his darling, fake smile on the ravishing Elissa.

An intense frown grew on Elissa's brow as she spotted Gwen's empty stare. "What are you looking at?" her words were sharp.

"Gwen hasn't been feeling well, she was just headed back to the party," Stephen explained to the enraged beauty.

"Gwen?" Elissa spoke the young girl's name like it was a curse. "And what exactly were you doing with her, Stephen?"

Eventually, Gwen was able to bring her mind into the reality that stood before her. "I'm just gonna go," she gestured down the lobby as she took a step backward.

"You don't go anywhere!" the woman barked at Gwen.

"This looks like a not my problem kind of situation… So…" Gwen needed relief; she needed to get away; she needed a drink.

"I've had enough of you, of your whoring around with," she paused to give Gwen a caustic glare, "Sluts."

"Oh, no," Gwen's eyes went wide. "I'm not a slut, but I mean if I was, well… I mean there's nothing wrong with being a slut, really."

Stephen, looking like someone had just dragged him to the end of his rope, rolled his eyes at Gwen's remark. "Nothing happened between me and her."

"We're just friends," Gwen said in his defense, but her flat tone and dead expression weren't going to improve the situation.

"Ha, right!" Elissa let out a crackling laugh of derision. "If there's one thing I know about Stephen Strange; it's that Stephen Strange is never 'just friends' with a woman."

Stephen pointed over at Gwen. "Look at the woman; she's obviously sick."

Gwen narrowed her eyes at Stephen and mouthed the words, "What?"

"I was just trying to help a friend in need," Stephen reassured Elissa.

"Can I go now?" Gwen squinted at them and gestured again over her shoulder. "I really don't want to be a part of this."

"I'm sorry, Gwen," he apologized to Gwen Stacy for the countless time. She heard his sincerity, but she wasn't exactly sure why he was apologizing anymore.

When Gwen Stacy arrived back in the Grand Ballroom, she gave out a sigh of relief. Whatever complicated relationship Strange had with that woman, it wasn't any of Gwen Stacy's concern. Perhaps if she had been in a more lucid state at the time, she would have cared or said something more, but it had already been a long evening with migraines, and nightmares, and expository angst. All Gwen Stacy wanted now, was a strong drink.

Lee had witnessed Gwen Stacy, the woman whose name he did not know, leave with the strange man in the well-tailored attire, but Gwen Stacy didn't come back with the man. Lee's imagination had led him into the stray corners of his mind where he contemplated the variety of activities that the two could have been up to. Lee wouldn't have been the first person in that room to admit that the strange man was a fairly attractive individual and that Gwen Stacy was a fairly special individual. What else was he expecting, the thoughts rang through his mind once more. She had a life; she had a normal life outside of being Spider-Woman. But to Lee, being a detective was the only life he had and she was a part of that.

Detective Terry Lee tensed up when he saw Gwen heading in his direction. She wasn't looking his way for obvious reasons. One of the obvious reasons being the fact that Gwen already knew who he was. This left Terry Lee at a disadvantage since he had no idea who Gwen Stacy was.

Gwen didn't bat an eye at the detective as she passed him by while heading to the opposite end of the bar. Gwen knew that the detective was failing to be subtle as he gaped at her. It had become apparent to Gwen Stacy that the detective recognized her, but she insisted on giving him the benefit of the doubt. There was always the possibility for magnificent coincidences.

Gwen ordered a whiskey at the makeshift bar in the Grand Ballroom and waited for one of two events to take place. Lee was still standing at the other end of the bar trying his best not to stare at her and continuing to fail, so she figured he might approach her sooner or later. The other likely event was her concerned and compassionate father finding her where he least wanted to find her. And when George Stacy found her, there was likely a lecture about her drinking problems to follow.

"Hey, there you are," George Stacy found his daughter in the last place he hoped to find her; next to the bar with a drink in hand. "I saw you with that Strange guy and then you disappeared for a while…"

"Just needed to go somewhere and be alone for a bit," Gwen lied to her father.

"May said you weren't talking to him anymore, but then I see you dancing with the guy."

"It was a coincidence." Gwen sipped her drink and flailed with her free arm. "I was just trying to be polite."

"Gwen," George raised a thick and stubby finger at her, "you don't owe politeness to any guy."

"It's fine, really," Gwen said with the glass pressed against her lips. "He's fine. I was just talking to him, that's all."

"You know I'm not afraid to throw someone in the drunk tank for you," George's eyes wrinkled with a smile. "I'm also not against kicking their ass."

"Dad…" Gwen placed a soft hand on her father's brooding shoulder. "If I wanted his ass to get kicked, I'd do it myself."

"I'm just sayin'."

"And also, you know," Gwen clasped her hands together, "I'm a grown woman. I don't need you to supervise me."

"Oh, yeah," George lifted his brow at her. "So then why are you still living in my house?"

"Harhar," Gwen meekly smacked her father's rigid arm. "I must get my terrible sense of humor from you."

George finally glared at the drink Gwen was holding. "Are you sure you should be drinking, Gwen?" As predicted, he couldn't help himself when it came to mentioning her little problem.

"If it makes you feel better, this is my first drink of the night," Gwen shrugged with the glass.

"I'd rather not see you with a drink at all, but…" George peered around the room of one-third stuck-up asshats, another third stuck-up asshat Hydra supporters, and the final third of actually decent men. "Can't say I blame you. And I can't always give you shit for it if I do it too."

"In my defense," Gwen held the glass up to examine its golden liquid, "I only do it when my brain needs a serious sabbatical… Which I guess is like every day of the week."

"Gwen, in all seriousness," his bushy, stern brows gave way to a delicate gaze. "Try to take it easy. For my sake, please?"

"Don't worry," Gwen rested the unfinished whiskey on the bar. "I think I've already had enough for one night."

From the corner of his eye, George caught the lonely Detective Terry Lee peering along the bar and at Gwen. "Do you know Detective Lee?" George looked to Gwen.

"Not that I'm aware of. He does keep staring at me." Gwen used this opportunity to return the detective's on and off staring.

"Detective!" Without further ado, George waved his arms as he shouted over to the detective.

Terry Lee almost dropped his glass when he realized that the captain had been waving at him.

Gwen quickly changed her mind about the drink and picked it back off the bar. "Great," she murmured to herself.

"Detective!" George placed his stocky hand on Terry's back when the detective arrived to greet the pair. "This is my daughter Gwen Stacy," George introduced her.

"I'm Detective Terry Lee," he outstretched his palm to Gwen for a shake.

"Nice to meet you," Gwen reciprocated his gesture, squeezing his hand tighter than what most people would have found comfortable.

Lee shook out his hand when the young woman released her grip. "Sturdy shake," he said while looking down at his now sore palm.

A short laugh escaped George before he continued, "I'm sure I've talked everyone's head off at one point about Gwen."

"He has," Lee pivoted his head to see Gwen's neutral expression. "Your ah, into computers or something, right?"

"You could say that," Gwen responded. "I'm a computer science major."

George bumped Gwen's arm, "And a minor in criminal law."

"Plan on being a cop someday?" Lee asked.

"Not really," Gwen twisted her face in a quizzical manner. "I don't think I have what it takes to be an officer of the law."

"You never know until you try."

George laughed again and patted Lee on the back, "I've been trying to convince her to join the force for years. Girl's got a real knack for detective work."

Gwen flicked her eyes at her father then back at the detective. "Hmm, well… It can be hard to decide what you want to do for the rest of your life. Sometimes there are more important things you have to think about."

Lee focused his attention on Gwen, "You can always change. You can always do something different with your life."

"Hey," George brutishly nudged his daughter with an elbow. "See that guy over there?" George pointed to a towering man who stood amongst a crowd of people. It would be impossible to miss the behemoth of a man on any given day of the year. He was tall enough that he literally had to look down at everyone around him and that was in addition to his cleanly shaved and gleaming skull. The man wore a pure, white suit that was perfectly crisp at every fold and bend; it was as if he was born in it.

"Who is he?" Gwen directed the question at her father.

However, it was Terry Lee who replied, "Wilson Fisk."

"Wilson Fisk?" Gwen glanced at the detective. "Is he supposed to be someone important?"

George nodded his head, "Yeah, supposed to be. Some big, rich, philanthropist guy. Owns half the real-estate in Manhattan alone."

Gwen observed Lee as he shot daggers at the foreboding Wilson Fisk, "Yea, owns half the goddamn real-estate so he can push hard-working New Yorkers out onto the streets for his giant fucking condos."

She turned her body to face the detective, "Tell me how you really feel."

"He's not wrong," George watched Fisk as he brushed through the crowd shaking hands, and he'd probably kiss some babies too if he could. "I don't think there's a borough in New York that Fisk hasn't already pushed someone out of."

Gwen stepped in front of Lee to seize his attention, "Then why isn't anyone doing anything about it?"

Despondent, Lee frowned at Gwen Stacy, "You can't do anything about a man who isn't breaking the law. Wilson Fisk is as clean as a whistle."

"Good people don't push good people out of their own homes," Gwen glared at Wilson Fisk and his plastic smile.

"The community loves Wilson Fisk… And half of the department loves Wilson Fisk." Lee saw the sour expression on Gwen's face; at least Spider-Woman didn't love Wilson Fisk. "He's becoming a public icon."

"Let me guess, he's a member of Hydra and his supporters are Hydra?"

George crossed his heavy arms and leaned into the bar, "Well, I may not agree with Hydra on a lot of things, but at least they're prepared to do something about Spider-Woman and whatever vigilante justice she thinks she's doing."

"Hydra is a cesspool of criminals and assholes," Gwen gritted her teeth while looking at her father.

"Hey," George snapped at Gwen. "Half of the PD are supporters of Hydra. A lot of good cops are members of Hydra. That's a poor attitude to have towards the people who protect your life."

"A lot of good they've done me," Gwen fumed at her father.

"Gwen, have you forgotten that I'm a cop, too?"

"No, but I thought you were better than those Hydra assholes," she chastised him. "You've always talked shit about them in the past; what's changed now?"

"I've had enough of this conversation, Gwen," her father raised his arms as if to surrender. "I'm not going to have a long argument with my own daughter in a room full of my officers."

"You're giving up because you have no defense-"

Just then, Lee clasped his hand on the back of Gwen's shoulder, "-That's enough for one day. Don't you think?"

She turned to present him with a fierce scowl, "Excuse me?'

"C' mon," he showed Gwen a benign smile. "You're not getting anywhere with this tonight. Your father's right; this isn't the place to be getting into an argument."

Gwen relaxed her scowl pivoted back to her father, "I shouldn't have said anything."

George stuck out his bottom lip, "Hmm."

"I'm sorry." Gwen reserved her annoyance for another day. Lee was right; it wasn't the time or the place if there ever was.

"Apology accepted," George was quick to forgive his child's frustrations.

Lee puffed his cheeks out and gaped at the pair, "It was nice meeting you, Gwen." The detective took an awkward step away from George and his daughter. "I'll talk to you guys later."

"Yeah…" Gwen watched him walk up to a cluster of officers who were crackling and cheering in laughter.

George waited a minute before saying anything else to his daughter, "Detective Lee is a good officer."

"Sure he is," Gwen replied absentmindedly.

"A guy like that," George crooked his head, "probably better for you than someone like Strange."

Gwen scrunched her eyes a blinked silently in response.

"I'm just sayin'."

"First of all, I'm not involved with Strange; he's just… A friend at best. And secondly, I'm not interested in anyone. I don't want to be with anyone." Gwen twisted her body and planted her elbows on the bar.

"Fine, fine," George flipped up his hands. "Forget I said anything."

"I don't know why you and May are endlessly obsessed with my relationship status."

"We just care about you, is all," George slanted his upper body towards Gwen. "You know how much I worry about you, Gwen. I just want you to have a normal life."

"No fun in normal," Gwen muttered.

"Normal is good; normal will make you better."

Gwen pushed herself away from the bar and let out an uneven breath. "You know what? I think I'm just going to head home now."

"You should at least wait for May's big speech," George placed his arm on her back. "She's been preparing all of this for months now."

"I know, I know," Gwen moved away from her father. "But I haven't been feeling well all night… I just… I need to go home and lie down."

"Okay," George's pleasant look diminished. "Take it easy. I'll see you later."

Gwen Stacy went home and without bothering to change, she lied face up on her cold bed. Endlessly she blinked at her ceiling in the empty darkness, trying to think about anything but her life.

"What am I doing?" she suppressed her desperate urge to cry as she spoke to the leaden ceiling. "What am I doing with my life?"

Everything felt so worn and tired and meaningless. If no one else was fighting for what you believed in, what was the point? If every time you closed your eyes your life became flooded with nightmares, what was the point? If every time you opened your eyes you saw the world collapsing around you, what was the point?

"I don't want to be here anymore," she could no longer quell her own tears.

As much as she wanted to leave, she couldn't help but think of her father and May and MJ. Until there was nothing left to fight for, Gwen would continue to suffer. There was always something to lose when you're Spider-Woman, she recalled Alistair's words.


	18. Chapter 18: You're Already Gone

As humans, as individuals, we transform who we are over the years; be it intentional or unintentional. Through all those steps, we would argue that we struggled, or suffered, or faced great challenges, but what truly occurred is a mystery to our fallible minds. All those has-beens are submerged in the subconscious mind of who you are today. Now all you have is a semblance of a solitary being stuck together with pieces of false memories. You wish you weren't crafted from all of those past experiences, but it's the only foundation your humanity has. We're all made from a broken foundation.

To Gwen Stacy's surprise, her best friend Mary Jane had come to visit her at the shelter. Attempting an illusion of a normal life, Gwen agreed to volunteer at the shelter after May made the offer. If anything puts your life into perspective, it's watching people with less smile more than you ever could. Gwen had a home and people who loved her; half of those staying at the shelter didn't have either privilege. It was impressive to watch all these humans face the world with rosy cheeks and sunny disposition; it was downright unfair, Gwen thought. It was unfair to be so content in a city that pushed people like them into forgotten corners. Except for May that was; May would never let any of them go forgotten.

"Hi, MJ," Gwen spoke with surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"I thought I'd take you out for lunch," MJ said as she observed her friend pilling up stacks of folded sheets on an empty cot. "When you have the chance."

"Yeah, sure," Gwen let go of the stack and smiled. "I can probably spare a few minutes."

"Okay, great!" MJ latched onto Gwen's arm and paraded her out the building and into the humid spring air. "There's this place a few blocks away that has an awesome rooftop patio. Also, they have a vegan menu which is super."

"You seem to be in a good mood, MJ." Gwen was tugged along the populated street by MJ. "Like, a really good mood."

"Because I have amazing news!" MJ pivoted her head to beam at Gwen. "You're gonna love it."

"Okay…" Gwen could feel a sense of dread building up in her stomach. "If you say so."

Continuously, Mary Jane insisted that the two be seated at the restaurant before she exposited the good news. MJ was practically bouncing as she followed the waiter to their outdoor table.

"Isn't this beautiful?" MJ gestured at the open sky as she flopped into her chair.

"It's nice," Gwen rolled up her shoulders as she sat next to Mary Jane. "I mean, it's just patio tables and plastic chairs, MJ…"

"It's like, minimalistic chic," MJ kept her toothy smile on Gwen.

"You wanna tell me what this is about?" The level of enthusiasm in Gwen's friend was categorically frightening. "I can't remember the last time I saw you this happy."

"Because it's been a long time since I've been this happy!" MJ laughed at Gwen. "It's like amazing."

"Yeah, yeah, okay," Gwen found MJ's grin and excitement to be infectious. "Tell me what's going on?"

"First, a drink. Waiter!" she actually stood out of her seat to yell this. "Let's get some margaritas over here please!"

"Jeez, MJ," Gwen raised from her chair to pull her friend back down. "You shouldn't yell at waiters. Are you sure you aren't already drunk?"

"No, I'm fine," MJ sighed with an outstretched palm. "Something absolutely crazy happened."

"You keep mentioning that."

"So, check this out," Mary Jane angled her body forward. "So remember we did that video for Face It Tiger? Like, just of us playing the song?"

"Yeah, I remember," Gwen nodded.

"So get this; it blew up."

"Blew up?"

"Yeah like, on YouTube-" MJ stopped and perked her head up in search of the absent waiter. "So, we suddenly got like over a million views. Can you believe that; that's insane?"

"I guess that's good," Gwen shrugged in a nonchalant manner.

"Well, it's more than that." MJ scooched her chair an inch toward Gwen's. "Most of the views came from like China and Japan and stuff, but either way, it's still a lot. So, I got contacted by this woman who works for this Japanese company called Avex Group, and it's like all really legit."

"Oh no, MJ," Gwen threw her head back. "How do you know that?"

"Because I know people who know people, and they confirmed that this is the real deal."

"Why would a Japanese record label contact you?" Gwen shook her head. "That makes no sense, MJ."

"Well, let me finish my story first-" MJ spotted the waiter returning to the girls with the requested drinks. "Yes, thank you!" she snatched the drinks out of the man's hand. "So, where was I?" MJ continued, "As I said, our video is like super big in Japan. And so this lady saw it and listened to some of our stuff and she thinks we're amazing."

"So, what? She's going to give you a record deal or something?" Gwen interjected while peering at the drink MJ planted in front of her.

"No, not exactly," MJ plucked at her drink's straw and took a lengthy slurp from it. "But this is better. She wants us to go on tour in Asia and go to like China and Japan and South Korea, like these amazing places."

"That's crazy," Gwen was baffled. "As in, no way MJ, that's insane."

"What do you mean?" MJ rubbed the back of her neck. "This is brilliant, Gwen. It's exactly the kind of opportunity we've been waiting for."

"You've been waiting for," Gwen corrected the bubbling woman. "It's the opportunity you've been waiting for."

"Well yeah," MJ's face scrunched up. "I mean, it's what we all wanted as a band, right?"

"This sounds like some kind of bullshit scam, MJ."

"It isn't," MJ almost looked crushed by Gwen's words. "This woman is coming into town next week and I already talked to Glory and Betty about it… We're gonna sign the contract and do it."

"Wow," at last, Gwen picked up her drink and scoffed. "I guess you were always looking for an excuse to leave New York."

"This is a once in a lifetime kind of thing," MJ's upturned mouth faltered. "We're gonna go for six months, see a shit ton of cool places, and perform our fucking hearts out."

"What about Zack?" Gwen asked although she was never surprised by MJ's fleeting obsession with her man of the week.

"We've only been going out for like two weeks, but he was really supportive and said I should go." A new smile gathered on MJ's face. "When I get back maybe we'll see each other, maybe we won't, who knows?"

"I guess, I guess," Gwen stopped to take a drink, "Good for you, MJ."

"Gwen," MJ said as she rested her hands on the tabletop. "You gotta come with us. You gotta do it."

"No, MJ," Gwen squinted towards the sky. "I have school you know; I have… A life."

"Ugh, Gwen," MJ let out an exaggerated sigh. "All of that will still be here when you get back. You can put school on hold. Your dad's not going anywhere; May's not going anywhere. You need a serious vacation from New York. We both do. And I want to do this with my best friend."

"I'm sorry, MJ," Gwen lowered her gaze. "I won't do."

"Why not?" MJ whimpered. "What reasons do you have to say no?"

"I, uh," the only thing that Gwen could think of was her personal responsibilities as Spider-Woman. "I just, I can't do it."

"You won't even give me a reason? At least give me a reason, Gwen," MJ pleaded with her friend.

"I can't," is all Gwen had to offer MJ.

"You mean you won't," MJ slowly shook her head. "It's okay if you're scared or something, Gwen. It's okay; it's like a lot."

"No, I'm not afraid." Gwen's palms started to perspire around the glass she held. "That's not it."

"Then what is it? Please, Gwen. Just tell me," MJ begged. "Just tell me the truth for once, just be honest with me."

"I'm sorry, MJ," Gwen could feel her heart pounding against the inside of her ribcage. "I just… I just can't go. I can't."

"Mhmm," MJ tapped her fingers against the table, trying to keep herself composed. "You can't change your mind after this. We already got another drummer lined up and I'm not gonna leave her hanging."

"I'm not changing my mind." Gwen felt a pang of guilt for the sorrow painted on MJ's face. "Just go and have a good time and… And I'll be here when you get back."

"We'll be leaving in a couple of weeks…" MJ wanted to shout at her friend; she wanted to scream at her friend; she wanted to cry. But MJ wasn't going to do any of those things. "Will you come say goodbye before we go?"

"Of course," Gwen assured her friend, but MJ didn't believe it.

Sometimes life just doesn't deal you the hand you'd planned on. You'd like to think you'd stacked the deck, but God just goes and mixes it all up again. When all is said and done, you have the crappiest hand the house has ever dealt you. Deal is, whether or not you want to, you just gotta keep playing.

"Psst," a soft voice whispered from above Lee.

He was almost blinded as he bolted his head toward the streetlight above himself. "Spi?" Lee squinted at the shadowed figure.

"No, it's Santa Clause," Gwen spoke sarcastically as she hopped down from the post. "Who else?"

"Bit brave of you to be showing up around here." Lee was specifically referring to the fact that the Spider-Woman caught him just outside NYC's precinct 24.

"I ain't afraid of no ghosts," in an outlandish pose, Gwen stuck her hands to the side of her hips.

"I haven't seen you in a while," Lee said as he scouted the area to see if anyone else was watching. "Even without your super-suit, this probably isn't the best place to have a chat."

Gwen pointed to the playground adjacent to the precinct. "Race you to the swings," Gwen spoke as she sprang through the sprouting trees and over the ten-foot chain-link fence.

In no hurry to catch up with the woman, Lee leisurely made his way around the fence to where she had landed.

"Took you long enough," she fluidly leaped to the top bar that held the swings in place.

"I hadn't seen you in a while, so I was enjoying the peace and quiet," Lee slightly raised his voice, trying not to shout at her.

Gwen flipped back down and landed on one of the swings. "Detective Lee?" the playful tone left her voice. "Did you look under my mask when I was unconscious in your bed?"

"Shit," Lee swallowed.

"I'll take that response as an absolute yes."

"I didn't mean to," was his weak excuse. "it's not what I intended or..."

"How do you accidentally remove a mask from a person's face?" Gwen tensed her fingers around the chain of the swing.

"It wasn't an accident…" Lee tried to read the expression plastered across her pale lips through the darkness of the night, but he couldn't make heads or tails of the woman. "I don't know what I was thinking; I shouldn't have done it."

"You were thinking you wanted to destroy whatever trust we had in this relationship," Gwen stood up from the swing. "Because I thought, as you said, this goes both ways. I trust you, you trust me."

"Spi-"

"-Don't Spi me," Gwen barked as she jabbed a finger in his direction. "I have so few allies in this… Place. Especially when it comes to fucking crime-fighting of all things."

"How am I supposed to trust a person I've never even met?" Lee defended himself.

"Ha!" Gwen let out a fake laugh. "Don't turn this back on me. You know exactly why I go around with a mask on; you know exactly why I can't tell people who I am."

"Why?" Lee flared his arms at her. "Because your daddy's a cop?"

"No," Gwen's tone lowered. "Or yes, actually. Because my dad's a cop who hates Spider-Woman. Because Spider-Woman is a murderer; because I'm being called a murderer. So everyone finds out who I am and then what happens to me? I end up locked away for the rest of my life being, being someone's fucking lab rat? I'll spend the rest of my life being poked and prodded at. Have you any idea what that's like? To be someone's fucking science experiment?"

"Spi, I wasn't going to tell anyone…" Lee could tell the woman was on the verge of tears.

"You're my buddy; you're my partner. I'm supposed to trust you."

"You know I'll never let any of that happen to you," Lee moved closer to her. "I'm not gonna let anyone lock you up or prod at you, or do anything to you."

"That isn't for you to decide," Gwen stepped back and bumped into the hanging swing. "That's for the rest of New York to decide."

"Your secret is safe with me," Lee pointed to his chest. "No matter what. I promise I won't say anything."

"It shouldn't be a problem to begin with…" Gwen plopped herself back in the swing. "My life's a fucking disaster at the best of times."

"If it makes you feel any better, I had no idea who you were when I looked under your mask," Lee remarked in an attempt to lighten to mood.

"As a matter-of-fact, it doesn't."

Lee moved to the swing next to the Spider-Woman and sat down. Dejected, Gwen pulled off her mask and stared at the detective. The streetlights reflected off her watery eyes as she shook her head in disappointment at him.

"What now?" the detective asked after a period of silence had fallen between them.

"I don't have anyone else to go to," Gwen pivoted her eyes at him. "It's not like I have any other cop friends. Most of you assholes despise me."

"Not everyone despises you, Spi. I talk to plenty of officers who think it's bullshit that Braden's death is being pinned on you."

"Any recommendations?" A smile slipped past her mouth. "Because I'm in the market for a new cop buddy. I need a Tango to my Cash."

"I thought you were Sherlock and I was Watson?" Lee quipped. "Besides, aren't Tango and Cash both cops?"

"Yeah well, not all of my analogies are perfect."

"I mean, most of your jokes aren't very good," Lee tried to lighten the mood once more.

Gwen's brow folded down at the detective, "What am I supposed to do?"

"I can't force you to trust me, but I can promise you that I'll never do anything to hurt you."

"If wishes were horses," Gwen kicked at the dusty ground.

"If wishes were horses?" Lee gave her a quizzical expression.

"If wishes were horses, beggars would ride."

"I'm not sure I get you," he tilted his head.

"It's a nursery rhyme," she explained.

"Okay…" Lee squinted back at her. "And how exactly does it apply to this situation?"

"If wishes could make things happen, even the most destitute of people would have what they wanted." Gwen jumped out of the swing. "And I wish I could trust you… And since I have nothing else and no one else, I'll just have to stick with you."

"I also think that's a terrible analogy for this situation."

"I'm going to snap you in half," Gwen grabbed Lee's arm and pulled him off the swing. "But I'll save that for another day."

"Does this mean you're forgiving me?" Lee almost lost his footing when she pulled him up.

"No," Gwen spoke as she wrapped the scarf back over her head. "But I'm afraid I need your help."

"With Kingpin?" Lee surmised.

"Did you find out anything about this Alistair Smythe guy?"

"He exists," Lee reached in a pocket at the inside of his light jacket. "The plate you gave me was registered under his name and with his address. Or that's what it looks like."

"It's too easy, isn't it?" Gwen watched Lee as he removed his phone from the jacket's pocket. "There's no way he would be that easy to find. It's a trap."

"It is looking like a serious set-up, Spi," Lee agreed with her. "He knew you were following him, so he gave you everything you needed to find him again."

"That doesn't make a lot of sense…" Gwen paused to stare at the starry night. "If he knew I was following him the first time, why not just try to kill me then?"

"He did try to kill you, Spi," he reminded her. "How hard did you hit your head?"

"Obviously, I'm still alive," Gwen turned her gaze back on the detective. "And if he was trying to kill me then, why not just come after me and fucking shoot me in the head when I passed out?"

"Maybe he was just testing you? You did say he gave you a choice to either save those people or go after him. Maybe he wanted to know what you'd pick."

"You know what I'm thinking?" Gwen aimed a finger at Lee. "He's Joker and I'm Batman."

"You're nothing like Batman," Lee glanced at his phone.

"You got somewhere to be, detective?" Gwen slunk to Lee's side. "Gotta hot date or something?"

"As a matter-of-fact," Lee twisted the phone out of Gwen's sight. "I'm supposed to be working right now and I got a job to do."

"Jobs are lame," Gwen backed away.

"If you plan on going after Alistair, I want to come with." Lee tucked his phone back in his jacket.

"Out of the question."

"I'm not letting you go headfirst into a trap by yourself," Lee's face became etched with a grave expression. "The last thing I need is you getting yourself killed."

Gwen folded her arms across her chest, "And the last thing I need is you getting yourself killed because of the Spider-Woman. I'm already infamous enough."

"I'm not giving you the address until we agree to this," Lee stroked the side of his unshaven chin. "And I thought you said we were a team."

"Fine," Gwen dropped her arms to her side. "But you stay out of the way? If this ends up being something really bad, you need to get out of there."

"I'll say the same for you," Lee's head followed Gwen as she bounced back to the top of the swing set.

"Okay, tomorrow send me the address and we'll meet up," she called down to him. "And don't be late, 'cause I'm not waiting around for your slow human ass."

As usual, when Gwen got home late that night she tip-toed down to her father's kitchen. When she flicked on the kitchen light, she was silently greeted by the lonesome May who was sitting at the table.

"What are you doing, May?" Gwen asked as she observed the half-empty bottle of red wine in front of her step-mother.

"I didn't want to mention it…" May paused to pour more wine into her glass. "Ben died when Peter was eighteen; that was six years ago to this very date."

"I'm sorry, May," Gwen didn't know what else to say.

"I got thinking about Peter again…" May absently plucked at the stem of her wineglass. "He took Ben's death so much better than I did. He carried me through it. Peter was always such a strong boy."

Somewhere off in the distance, Gwen could hear a crow calling through the heavy night.

"Some days are just harder than others," May turned a smile to her daughter. "Once you lose someone, you spend the rest of your life grieving for them. That never changes."

"I know," Gwen stood motionless, staring vacantly at May from across the table. "I still have nightmares about my mom and my brother; about the crash. Every time I close my eyes… It's there."

"It gets better; it does," May rested her cheek in her hand, keeping her precious smile. "I know it might not feel like that and I know sometimes you think it'll never get better, but it does, Gwen. It takes time."

"It's been thirteen years." Gwen heard the crow call again.

"Thirteen years of you not talking about it; of you barely saying a word."

'Well, I didn't have anyone to talk to for seven of those years," Gwen gazed out the kitchen window trying to perceive something through its darkness, but all she saw was May's reflection.

"But you're here now and I think that's the most you've ever said to me about it."

"You can't change the past," Gwen lifted her hand to rub the nape of her neck. "You can't change the future."

"God has a plan for us all," May held her gentle smile on the sorrowful girl.

"You know I don't believe in that, right?" Gwen couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at May.

"Ah well, I can believe fine enough for the both of us."

"I appreciate that," Gwen returned a faint smile.

"Oh, before I forget," May wobbled up from her chair. "I have something for you."

Gwen scrunched her eyebrows and gritted her teeth at the stumbling woman.

May took a few uneven steps to the kitchen island and picked up what looked like an oversized shoebox.

"This is for you," she said while holding the box.

"What is it?" Gwen tilted her head.

"Open it," May thrust the box out.

Gwen lifted the top of the box off to reveal what looked like her Spider-Woman outfit. As she removed it from the box, she noticed that a large blue spider had been sown on both the front and back of the costume. The rest of the costume still stood the same with its black and white coloring and pink webbing through the inseam of her arms and hood.

"I made it for you," May's face lit up.

"This is even more conspicuous than my last costume," Gwen commented on the blue insignias. "And I am kind of a wanted criminal at the moment."

"People need to see Spider-Woman, not some masked stranger running around in black," May placed the empty box back on the counter. "You might not think so, Gwen Stacy, but people love Spider-Woman. People need to know that she's out there fighting for them."

"I got the impression I was public enemy number one," Gwen folded the costume into her arms.

"Maybe that's what the cops are saying and maybe that's what you see on the news, but that's not what people think," May grabbed onto Gwen's shoulders. "But everyone else out there knows you're a good person. When they see you, they see hope."

"I'm not so sure about tha-"

"It's true," May interrupted Gwen. "Gwen, you must know that people at the shelter talk about you all the time. Some of those people are people you've saved and protected. Spider-Woman saves babies from burning buildings and kittens from trees; she'll chase down a robber for some little old lady's purse. People see that you're a good person who does good things. You're not a murderer, and people know that."

"No one is ever that good; no one can ever be that good," Gwen looked down at the costume clutched between her arms.

"Maybe not, but that isn't the point," May lifted Gwen's chin. "What's important is what people see. And when they see Spider-Woman, they see a better life for themselves. They see a better future for New York because of you."

"Tell that to dad," Gwen slouched her head back down.

"I told you George will come around one day. He'll see that the amazing Spider-Woman really is amazing."


	19. Chapter 19: Through the Human Eye

This is to the rest of the life that you've got. All the time that you've wasted and thrown to the wind; let it be forgiven. Build the rest of what you have left towards a future you can call your own. Weave the rest of time into something that's worth living for. In the end, your time is so finite and so minuscule in the grand scheme of the limitless Universe. So, after you're gone the world will move on and time will leave you forgotten. Make what time you have left yours and yours alone. Don't let anyone steal your time.

"What's this?" Gwen batted at Lee as he tugged on the collar of her brand new Spider-Suit.

"It's a microphone," Lee ignored her intentionally ineffectual flailing. "A walkie-talkie. So we can, you know, talk."

Gwen allowed him to clip the microphone to her suit as she peered down the dampened alley over his shoulder. It had been raining again in New York on that balmy evening which wasn't traditional for the month of June. Gwen assumed it was all thanks to global warming or climate change or whatever people found the least offensive.

"Are you done?" Gwen blinked at the dripping eavestroughs and fire escapes that lined the narrow alley.

"Seems to be good," Lee let her go and took a step back.

Gwen felt around her collar for the newly attached device, "You didn't fuck with my new suit, did you? You know my mom made this for me."

"It's nice." Lee wasn't one to dismiss how dry-suits were generally flattering on a woman.

"It's almost identical to the one I was wearing before," Gwen criticized his remark.

"Okay, that one looked nice, too," Lee shrugged at her.

"Mhmm," Gwen nodded and squinted at him, not that he could see her condescending expression. "Okay, let's get this show on the road," Gwen moved away from the subject at hand.

"Remember this is a stakeout," Lee felt the need to broadcast this to Gwen. "We both know somethings up here."

"Yeah, yeah," Gwen lifted her chin to get a better view up a nearby fire-escape. "I'll get on the corner of this building. I should have a spicy view from there."

"I'll be in my car," Lee pointed down the alley. "Keep me posted about what's going on. And I can't stress this enough, Spi-" Lee latched onto her arm and gave her a light shake, "-If anything happens, don't go in there without me."

"Roger," she saluted him in response.

"I'm serious," he poked at her shoulder. "Serious."

"Okay, mom," Gwen spoke as she walked to the brick wall of an apartment facing the alley.

Lee studied Gwen as she stuck to the side of the brick wall like a, well, like a spider and started to climb. Lee had no idea how it was even possible, especially when he considered the fact that she wore shoes and gloves all the time. However, Lee wasn't even sure how normal spiders stuck to surfaces let alone a human spider.

Lee had little to no bead on Alistair Smythe's supposed apartment from his car. On top of that, it was raining hard enough that any visibility he could have had would have been greatly reduced.

"Can you hear me?" Lee spoke into his end of the compact walkie-talkie.

"The rain isn't helping," Gwen tapped the tiny mic, "But I got you."

"Do you see anything?" Lee immediately asked.

"Hold your horses, show pony," Gwen spoke as she made herself comfortable on the rainy rooftop.

Presently, there wasn't a whole lot of action going down in the apartment across from where she sat. Gwen was trying to get the best view possible on Alistair Smythe's known address, but she could only see past the living room curtains. First, she saw a man pass by the window, then not too long later she saw a woman pass by.

"What the fuck?" Gwen squinted at the woman through the window.

"What?" Lee's voice chimed over the radio.

"I think I see the mayor's wife?"

"How do you know?" Lee asked.

"She does a lot of volunteer work with May, so I've seen her before." Gwen crouched down on all fours and hopped closer to the ledge of the building. "It's gotta be her."

"Are you sure?" Lee angled his body forward in the driver's seat in an attempt to see Gwen's position across the street, but he had no such luck spotting the young woman through the heavy rain. "What would she be doing there?"

"I dunno," Gwen bunched her shoulders against the warm night. "I mean, we know this isn't Alistair's home address. This could be her place or a friend of hers or something."

"She lives with her husband in Manhattan, Spi," Lee informed the young spider. "But yeah, could be a friend. That plate you gave me was the only information I could find on the address."

"Ooo, saucy," Gwen pretended to act intrigued. "You think she's cheating on him? Is this what Alistair wanted me to see? The mayor's wife cheating on him? Boring."

"That doesn't make a whole lotta sense," Lee relaxed back in his seat. "There's gotta be more to this." At the tail end of Lee's comment, the lights in the mysterious man's apartment went out.

"Whoa, whoa, wait a second," Gwen darted upright. "The lights just went out."

"Maybe they left or maybe they are getting hot and steamy up there," Lee conjectured.

"I don't know…" Gwen padded up and down the rooftop ledge. "If I can get in closer I'll be able to hear what's going on."

"I'm not going to recommend that," Lee's tone became sharp. "In fact, I'm going to say no to that."

"You're not my boss," Gwen bluntly replied as she bounced across the street and stuck on the wall next to Alistair's not-apartment. To avoid being seen, Gwen kept close to the wall and moved the tips of her fingers to the frame of the window.

"Spi?" Lee called through the radio. "Spi?"

"Quiet," she shushed him. "I can hear something… Like shuffling around... Furniture moving…"

"I think that's enough to make an assumption here."

"An assumption of what?" Gwen carefully moved her head closer to the window. "You think they're doing it? If that's the case, I don't hear anyone having fun."

"How do you even hear through this rain and cars honking and through a freakin' window?" Lee twisted his head back under the windshield looking for the Spider-Woman clinging to the side of Alistair's apartment.

"You should just read a Wikipedia article on spiders and assume I can do all of that stuff." Gwen finally moved her head far enough to peek into the window, but it was too dark inside for her to make anything out.

Suddenly, Gwen heard the guttural scream of a man from inside the apartment.

"What was that?" Lee heard the shout over Gwen's radio.

Without responding to Lee, Gwen swiftly shot to streams of web above the window. She then pushed directly off the building, using the webs to create enough torque on the swing back to smash into the apartment. As soon as Gwen broke the window, the lights in the living room flicked back on. The first thing Gwen saw was the mayor's now dead wife sprawled on her back in the middle of the living room floor.

"Jesus!" the strange man yelped at Gwen in fear.

At that moment, the door to Alistair's apartment came swinging off of its hinges. Lee bellowed something over Gwen's radio, but she ignored it in the unexpected chaos. Through the busted door, two NYPD officers barged in with weapons trained directly on Spider-Woman. However, Gwen noticed that they weren't holding pistols, instead the two officers had tasers pointer at her.

Gwen held up her arms and stared down at the dead body. "I didn't do this," she spoke quickly.

"Freeze!" one of the cops yelled at Gwen.

The strange man who previously yelped in fear, pulled a stun baton out from behind his back and whipped it in Gwen's direction. Luckily, Gwen's spider senses allowed her to duck out of the swing and knock the man down with a kick to his legs. As Gwen shifted a step away from the prone man, both officers shot their tasers in her direction. This time, Gwen was unable to dodge one of the cartridges fired at her.

Gwen Stacy had never been tasered before, so she tensed up the moment the electrodes hit her in the abdomen. Gwen was expecting to be uncomfortably shocked and collapse onto the ground; the two officers were also expecting this. By contrast of expectation, it was the officer that had shot her who ended up being electrocuted. What Gwen felt was a tingle flow across her skin like the feeling you get after you wake up a numb limb. Gwen gaped down at her fingertips as she witnessed a tiny ark of static dissipate from them.

"Snider!" the officer left standing cried at his friend who had just crumpled to the floor.

Gwen flexed her fingers into a fist. "What the hell?"

"Spi, Spi!" Lee's distant words finally came into the foreground of Gwen's conscious mind. "What the hell is going on?!"

Gwen dropped her arms and let out an uneasy breath.

The officer who was inspecting his fallen friend bolted back up and reached for his gun. "She's fucking dead!" he shrieked. "Don't you fucking move, you goddamn monster!"

"No…" Gwen murmured under her breath. Unwilling to surrender, Gwen dove headfirst back through the broken window and onto the soaked street below. As she landed, she heard shots ring out above her head. Lee was startled when he saw Gwen Stacy gracefully land fifteen feet ahead of his car. As soon as the girl was in his sight, she abruptly vanished.

"Spi? What are you doing?" Lee twisted his head around in search of the missing spider.

An invisible hand knocked on the passenger side of Lee's car. "Let me in," Gwen spoke.

Lee stretched his arm across the passenger seat and popped open the door. The invisible woman quietly lowered herself into the car and slammed the door shut behind her.

"What the fuck happened?!" Lee's eyes focused on where he imagined the phantom's face may have been. "I told you, and I made a point of this, to not go in there without me! I specifically said don't go in there-"

"-Lee, just shut up," Gwen calmly interrupted him. "I get it, okay? I remember what you said."

"What happened in there?" Lee gritted his teeth as he repeated himself.

"Ah, well-" before Gwen could reply, sirens sounded off only a few blocks from their location.

"What did you do, Spi?" Lee turned his head forward and gripped the steering wheel.

"Me?" Gwen gestured at herself, but it was a futile motion in her cloaked form. "I, uh… I don't know what I did. I'm not… I'm not sure what I did."

"What do you mean?" Lee wrung his hands around the wheel.

"Obviously it was a setup, of course," her tone lowered. "I found the- I found the mayor's wife… She was dead. And I think they were going to frame me for her murder. Or rather, are going to frame me for her murder."

"Jesus, Spi," Lee exhaled and let go of the wheel. "This is exactly why I told you not to go in there."

The blaring sirens came closer and Lee saw an ambulance and patrol unit round the corner at the end of the street. Lightning flashed across the sky and the booming thunder temporarily muted the whining vehicles. The drizzling rain transformed into a torrential downpour, shrouding Lee's car in an impenetrable cloud of mist.

"I bet this is exactly what Kingpin wanted," Lee continued. "You're already wanted for murder, but only members of Hydra gave a shit about that insane fucking asshole. Now, well now… There's a lot of people out there who won't forgive the Spider-Woman for this one."

"It's a lot worse than that," Gwen spoke slowly. "I uh, I… There was already two officers there. They were waiting to barge in the second I went in that place."

"Of course," Lee raised his hands behind his head. "Kingpin is Hydra; half the force is Hydra. He probably had a whole list of volunteers for this one. Those two officers are gonna testify that they caught you in the act."

"One officer…" Gwen muttered.

"You just said there were two officers."

"Something else happened…" Gwen could feel her hands shaking; she could feel her limbs still tingling. "They had tasers… I think they were going to try and uh, take me in right there. But…"

"But?" Lee almost snapped at her. "But what, Spi?"

"The one officer, she… She shot me with her taser, and I... and I-"

"C'mon, spit it out, Spi!" this time Lee did snap at the invisible girl.

"I don't know what happened, okay?!" Gwen shouted back. "The taser, there must have been something wrong with it, 'cause… Because nothing happened to me. I'm fine, but she… I don't know. She got electrocuted and… And…"

"And what?" Lee's tone changed after he heard the panic in the young woman's voice.

"She died, Lee. She was electrocuted to death. I don't know if it was the gun or what, but… I felt her heart stop."

"Jesus, shit…" Lee muttered to himself.

"Their gonna say I'm a cop killer, Lee," as she said this, Gwen reappeared next to Lee. "Guess I'm all out of juice…" she commented as she noticed her sudden reappearance.

"You're not a cop killer," Lee tried to reassure her.

"Well, it sure as hell looks like that way." Gwen pulled her hood back and peeled off her spider mask. "Everyone in New York is going to know that Spider-Woman is a cop killer."

"Shit… we-" Lee stared into Gwen's woeful eyes, "-we can still turn this around."

"What?" Gwen frowned at him.

"Whoever those cops were, we know they were working directly for Kingpin or this Alistair guy," enthusiasm grew in the detective's voice. "We can tag 'em, figure out where they're going and what they're doing. We can find out what they're doing and maybe even find a way to prove Spider-Woman's innocence."

"The one who died, uh… Her name was Snider." Gwen stopped to concentrate in order to recall the details of the scene. "I saw the other guy's badge number… It was 6349, I think."

"Good, that's good," Lee sighed with relief. "We can use that."

"You seem to be more… optimistic than I expected."

"You didn't listen to me," Lee nodded. "But we can't take it back now. We got to go with what we have. And Gwen, you're not a cop killer. You're not a killer of any kind."

"Try telling that to the people I've killed," Gwen dropped her head. "I don't think they'd agree with you."

"Say what you will," Lee placed a gentle palm on the girl's shoulder. "But I've said it before and I'll say it again; you're not a murderer."

Gwen slowly shook her head to placate the detective. "Can you drive me home? I'm kinda obvious looking like I do now."

"Yeah, sure," Lee agreed to help her out. "Probably have to hold out until the storm relaxes a bit…"

"If my father didn't hate Spider-Woman before, he will now," Gwen added. "My life just gets better and better. Fuck."

"No matter what happens, I'll still be on your side."

"You're going to regret it," the frown stuck on Gwen's face. "I don't want Spider-Woman to be the death of you."

"And I don't want Spider-Woman to be the death of Gwen Stacy," a small smirk crossed the detective's face.

"What's that about?" Gwen quizzically replied to Lee's expression.

"I think I like Gwen Stacy more than Spider-Woman," he explained.

"You don't know Gwen Stacy. You know Spider-Woman."

"I know enough about Gwen Stacy to prefer her," he smiled at her again. "For one, I always figured Spider-Woman was a block of ice. Gwen Stacy isn't much of an ice queen."

"Being emotional is the worst thing you can be when you're trying to protect people; when you're trying to save lives." Gwen noticed the pace of the pouring rain began to slow. "We should probably go now."

Now able to see through the watery street, Lee peered through his windshield to see the parked ambulance. As expected, the EMTs had returned to the vehicle empty-handed. It wouldn't be long before a detective, the medical examiner, and probably more PD showed up to examine the scene. And it wouldn't be long before Spider-Woman's cop killer mask was pasted all over the local news.

It was going to be another long day, Gwen Stacy thought to herself as she left her bedroom on that unusually chill morning. Gwen steadily tiptoed down the stairs and made her way into the foyer next to the living room. If her dad was home in the morning, he'd have whatever news channel he was into at the time blaring through the main floor of the house. And not to Gwen's surprise, as she poked her head around the corner she could her dad standing in front of the TV, coffee in hand, looking enraged to no end. George Stacy didn't become a Captain because of his niceties and meager ways; George Stacy became a Captain because he was a hard-ass who didn't take shit from a fly.

Gwen crept around the corner, listening to what the news reporter on the TV had to say about Spider-Woman's latest escapades. The NYPD issued a city-wide warning to stay away from the Spider-Woman at all costs. An entire police squad would be actively searching for the web crawler day and night. The broadcast showed a glimpse of an angry mob of citizens lining up at precincts around the city. The frustrated people of New York were questioning the competencies of the police department, asking why Spider-Woman wasn't already in custody for her previous killing. They questioned why the police didn't already have an active task force going after the Spider-Woman. As it stood, it seemed the people of New York were no longer Spider-Woman's number one fan.

Gwen cleared her throat, "Why do you even watch the news? I mean, you already know about all of this."

Startled, George turned to face his daughter, "I know how dangerous Spider-Woman is; I'm glad to see that people are finally seeing it for themselves."

"Glad?" Gwen raised her eyebrows and took a step into the living room. "Two people are dead. That's nothing to be glad about."

"Exactly," George gestured at her with his coffee mug. "Spider-Woman needs to be stopped. This has already gone too far."

"It's never black and white though, is it?" Gwen gazed at the television screen. "She's being labeled a murderer, a killer, and nobody questions it. They just blindly agree with what anyone says."

"You're not defending a cop killer, Gwen," George didn't phrase this as a question, he phrased it like a command.

"I gotta go," Gwen held onto her rage. "I promised I'd help May get breakfast ready at the shelter today."

"I'll be leading the task force to stop Spider-Woman," George said just as the girl turned around.

"What are you going to do when you find her?" Gwen twisted her neck to catch her father's stern expression at the corner of her eye.

"Do the right thing, of course. Take her in. She'll go to trial just the same as any other criminal in New York."

"But that's not it, is it?" Gwen pivoted back to her father. "Plenty of criminals don't get taken in. Plenty of criminals get shot to death on the street by the NYPD."

"We do what we must," George furrowed his brow. "If criminals resist arrest, we can't protect them. It's the safety of the public over theirs. Why exactly are we arguing about this, Gwen?"

"I'm just curious as to what's going to happen to the Spider-Woman when she doesn't willingly give herself up? Is she going to get shot down just like any other criminal in the street?"

"She's a killer, Gwen," George's voice filled with aggravation. "She isn't above the law so she needs to stop acting like it. No one is above the law."

"Of course," Gwen balled her fists thinking of the million different things she could say to her father. Hydra was above the law, Kingpin was above the law, Alistair Smythe was above the law, all of these horrible pieces of garbage proved that they were above the law. "Like I said, I gotta go."

When Gwen arrived at the shelter that morning, she watched the anxious-looking May trot over from halfway across the large gymnasium.

"You're late," spoke the concerned woman. "We have a lot of people to feed every morning. Go to the kitchen and help Annie set up the tables."

"Yeah, okay," Gwen stared blankly at her step-mother.

"Get on with it," May smiled.

"I uh, I thought you might wanna talk," Gwen's expression dropped. "You know-"

"-It's okay," May replied as she abruptly hugged her daughter. "Go help Annie."

"Right, yeah," Gwen vigorously nodded as her step-mother released her grip.

It was impossible for Gwen to ignore the loud buzzing of voices surging through the shelter that morning. May and her troop of saintly volunteers would prepare enough food to feed the faces of at least one-hundred in need individuals. Often, Spider-Woman came up as the topic of choice for discussion. Gwen had the general rule of paying no heed to what anyone had to say about her, but when everyone was talking about you, there was no way to avoid it. And a lot of what people had to say about her wasn't exactly what she would have hoped for.

Of all the people at the shelter, very few were Spider-Woman apologists. Gwen agreed that it was unintelligent to endlessly defend a person and preach that they could do no wrong, but she certainly could have used more of that loyalty. There was no way around it, Spider-Woman was being accused of murdering not only the mayor's wife but also a police officer. It was funny because from what she overheard, people were more willing to forgive her killing an officer of the law. The current state of the NYPD was a hot-button issue for everyone and their dog and a lot of folks weren't under the impression that the PD was serving proper justice to the public. That doubt was all thanks to Hydra.

Cop killer or not, what bothered people the most was the death of the mayor's wife. That death also wasn't just hearsay from the NYPD, but it was confirmed by a witness at the crime. Tristan Guillory, who was the owner of the apartment where the crime happened to take place in, claimed the Spider-Woman had strangled the mayor's wife to death. He was a long-time close friend to the mayor's wife who supposedly had invited her over for dinner. Dinner turned to drinks and drinks turned into a long night of good company. That was until Spider-Woman barged in.

Tristan said that he himself was threatened by Spider-Woman after she killed the mayor's wife and that he was saved by the brave officers who rushed to the scene. No one stopped to ask how the cops arrived to the scene so quickly. No one would look into who in fact did own that apartment because no one would be bothered to ask. There were gaps in Tristan's story; there were always gaps in any faulty story, but no one felt compelled to think twice about what really went down. No one was asking questions.

It was clear to Gwen Stacy that Kingpin had weaved himself a very complex and dangerous web.


	20. Chapter 20: Throw Yourself Away

Sometimes the feeling of wanting to abandon everything and everyone you know is overbearing. Life hasn't turned out even close to how you imagined it, but you weren't ever sure how you did imagine it. You try to construct an image in your mind of what you want, yet it's impossible. You can't think of how things could be better or different; you only know that you don't want this. It is agony to contemplate the boring and plain life that you have on this planet; how meaningless it all is. The mundanity of existence cuts through us all like a knife.

"Anything else?" Gwen stared at the tables brimming with happy people and hearty meals as she feigned a smile at Annie.

"Well," Annie turned to the lengthy table they had set up as a serving station for that morning's meal, "It looks like we're all out for the day. Better help me clean this stuff up."

Gwen's fake smile folded downwards into a frown. "Of course," she murmured to herself.

"I mean, I won't force you," Annie responded to Gwen's sudden frown with a look of surprise. "You can go if you want."

"Ah no," Gwen realized that Annie had misunderstood who Gwen's downturned expression was directed at. "Just saw someone I recognized, is all. Obviously, I'll help you out."

Dr. Strange had been technically searching for Gwen Stacy when he saw her at the shelter that bright and clean morning. To no surprise, it had been a while since the doctor had heard from Gwen Stacy, and texting her felt impersonal when he considered the discomfort of their previous encounter. So, in order to locate the young girl, Stephen decided to visit the lovely Saint May at her Home for the Displaced and inquire about the mysteriously fascinating Gwen Stacy. The mysterious girl who had been kidnapped under mysterious circumstances was the object of Dr. Stephen Strange's eye. She was a girl so fine and precious he couldn't possibly leave her to the wind.

He watched the sour expression fall over Gwen's face as she initially spotted him from across the span off occupied tables through the large gymnasium. He flashed her his ever-so-charming and categorically Stephen Strange roughish grin, but Gwen quickly turned on her heels to face away from him. Now, Dr. Strange was never the type of man to let himself be spurned by anyone, especially a woman who he had decidedly taken a liking to.

"Gwen?" he spoke towards the woman's back when he finally approached her.

"That's me," Gwen squeezed the words from her throat, refusing to turn around.

"Are you still ignoring me?" he took a wide step to sidle up next to her.

"Before you say anything, let me make a guess," Gwen shifted her body, still keeping her back to him. "You've come to apologize for something?"

"That was part of it," he admitted.

"Listen, doc, I'm not interested."

"In my apologies? Or in talking to me?" he asked while trying to lean around her shoulder.

"Bit of both," Gwen spoke with a slight flinch at the feeling of his breath hitting the side of her neck.

Stephen planted his foot in front of her and moved his body to face her head-on. "Are you upset with me because of Elissa?" he wondered.

"Who?" Gwen lied. She remembered Elissa, crimson lips and all. Maybe if the situation had been different and Elissa hadn't reminded Gwen of her nightmare about Strange, Gwen would have felt at least an inch of jealousy or annoyance. Maybe she would have felt anger towards the doctor for implying that it would have been ludicrous for anything to have happened between him and Gwen.

"Alright, well," he sighed, "I'm going to apologize for her rudeness towards you. You see, she was my date that night and Elissa can be a very insecure woman."

"Just how you like your women, I assume?" her eyes pointed at the floor, Gwen responded with uncontrolled vitriol.

"Perhaps at one point in my life… But insecurities of the superficial kind are exactly that; superficial," he refrained from replying to the hurt woman as caustically as she had to him.

Gwen reluctantly raised her chin to catch a glimpse of the doctor. When she saw his grey eyes staring back at her, it was through the brimming pool of endless vermillion. "Jeez," she looked downward again.

"Clearly, I'm upsetting you," Stephen watched her glistening eyes glare back at the floor. "You seemed so eager to talk to me before. What's changed now?"

"Were you telling the truth?" she let go of her surliness with an uneven exhale. "You know, about your family?"

"About how they're all dead?" Stephen straightened his neck out to peer around the large gymnasium full of gossip and food and the destitute. The older woman who had been talking to Gwen previously caught his eye; she stood rigidly while shooting absolute daggers in his direction from the opposite end of the serving table. "Did you lie to me about being kidnapped and tortured?"

"No, I didn't lie about that," she said while slowly peeking back up at him. This time there was no nightmare; it was just his subtle smile and sharp features that innocently looked back at her.

"And I didn't lie about losing my family," Stephen added.

She lifted her head to him once more, "I'm sorry… That you went through all of that…"

"You've been busy," Stephen drifted away from further discussion of his family. "Everyone who's anyone has an opinion about Spider-Woman. If you weren't popular before, you certainly are now."

"Infamy is not exactly what I wanted," Gwen peered around the bustling room, "but I can't control public ignorance."

"There's something else," his eyes widened upon her. "Are you embarrassed that you told me your secrets?"

"What? Why say that?" Gwen shifted her eyes to Stephen then back to the crowded room.

"Because as I mentioned before, it seems like you're trying to ignore me."

"I'm not trying to ignore you," Gwen lied again.

"Then what is it?" he gazed into her cerulean eyes. "What have I done that's caused this shift in temperament?"

Gwen's eyes shut as she expelled a deep sigh. "It's… It's hard to explain."

"After all you've told me?" the doctor let out a short chortle. "Now you perceive you have a secret so unbelievable? More unbelievable than having super-powers? More unbelievable then killing you best friend?"

"Sometimes I wondered why I talked to you at all…" Gwen opened her eyelids to glower at the man. "And then I remembered how insignificant and inconsequential it all feels. Like, I have nothing to lose when I talk to you."

"Ouch," he replied sarcastically. "I'm hurt."

"What I, what I mean…" Gwen's forehead bunched and wrinkled. "Is that I can't tell May or my dad or even my best friend about what I really am. There are consequences; I'll be treated differently. There were never any consequences in telling you the truth. What could you do with the truth? Anything I could imagine didn't matter. At worst, you would call me a liar and we would never talk again."

"I'm glad I could be so meaningless to you," Strange chafed at her.

"But…" Gwen's heart rate increased as recalled her vivid dream. "Sometimes things happen that you don't make sense. And I don't know how to explain that?"

"Sounds impossible if you ask me."

"I think you're going to die and I don't know how to tell you that," Gwen let the words burst from her mouth without a second thought.

Stephen was stunned and bemused by the woman's remark. "Well, you just did," he said after a few seconds of silence.

"I, uh, don't know why I said that," Gwen's eyes went wide. "That was a mistake."

"I hate to disappoint you, but I have no intentions on dying anytime soon," the doctor brushed off her statement.

"I dreamt that you were in a car crash… I don't know what happened exactly-" flashes of twisted metal and red blood filled her vision, "-but, I don't think you lived."

"You had a dream?" Stephen almost laughed at her. "So now you believe I'm going to perish in an accident?"

"I've dreamt about bad things before, bad things that have happened," Gwen continued to scrunch her face at him in concern. "I told you it was ridiculous."

"And I should have believed you," he softly grinned at the silly girl. "I'm afraid no one can see the future, Gwen."

"But I have…" the words barely slipped from her lips. "And I know it sounds crazy. Before Peter died, I had a dream about Mary Jane at his funeral. I had a dream about the Park Avenue Apartment fire before it happened. And I've dreamt about people getting attacked… I have these dreams before something awful happens."

"Now you're claiming you can see the future?" Stephen crooked his head at Gwen.

"I'm not claiming anything," she quietly huffed in response. "I don't know what to think of it. I get a migraine and I have a bad dream and then… And then I don't know."

Stephen folded his arms over and glanced back at Annie who still wore her look of daggers against him. What did I ever do to her, Stephen wondered? But Stephen knew that it didn't take a person very long to see exactly how precious of a soul Gwen Stacy was, if any ever existed. As well, some were immune to Stephen's dashing smile and charming demeanor. It was impossible to miss the fact that Stephen had obviously soured the young Gwen Stacy's attitude that morning.

"I'm not expecting you to believe me," Gwen lunged around Stephen to get closer to that morning's food serving station. "If you don't mind, I am here to get some work done," she pointed at the serving table full of empty trays.

Stephen joined Gwen next to the table and began stacking empty trays in front of her. "If I believe you, I'd have to admit that there are supernatural forces that exist in this world which are beyond human control. Sadly, no such entities exist."

"I don't believe in any of that garbage either," Gwen started stacking another set of vacated trays. "I'm the last person on Earth to believe in that shit. It's exactly why I wish I didn't have those dreams…"

"You honestly think I'm going to die?" Stephen questioned her. "When, where? How much time do I have left?"

"I told you that I don't know what to think," she pulled Stephen's stack away from him. "It's just a dream."

"Well," Stephen raised his eyebrows in what seemed like a genuine smile, "I appreciate the concern, but as I mentioned, I don't plan on dying anytime soon."

"Let's hope you're right," Gwen spoke as she hoisted the large stack of trays up in her arms.

Empty-handed, Stephen treaded behind Gwen into the vast stainless-steel kitchen. "So, you do care what happens to me?"

"Whatever you think about me, I'm not heartless." She dropped the trays into an over-sized sink basin.

"I never thought you were heartless," he stopped beside her.

"Right," she jerked her head in a nod. "You're the heartless one, so you claim."

He couldn't argue with that point or rather, he wouldn't. "I still haven't had the opportunity to take you out for dinner."

"Is this why you really came here? To ask me out on a date?" Gwen planted her hands on the edge of the sink.

"Actually, I came here looking for May with the intention of eventually finding you."

"Okay, and when you found me your plan was to apologize for the millionth time and then ask me out on a date?" Gwen exhaled as she turned the knobs on the sink.

"Precisely," Stephen snapped his fingers at her. "That is unless you've changed your mind about ever wanting to speak to me again. If I'm so inconsequential, it must not matter to you either way."

Gwen turned the knobs back off and let out a breath of hot air at him, "Don't turn this around on me."

"I like you, Gwen Stacy. I like your company; I like talking to you. And I'd like to spend more time talking with you. However, you seem rather conflicted about whether or not you like me," he pointed out astutely.

"I know whether or not I like people," Gwen lowered her head to meaninglessly examine the splashes of water on the dirty trays. "You're a liar, you're an asshole, you almost got yourself killed in front of me, but… You're the only person I've ever been honest to. Lord only knows why."

"I know why," he said in his matter-of-fact tone. "Because no woman is immune to my charms."

Gwen quietly scowled at him in response.

"That was a joke," he raised his palms in defense. "You're not like other people, Gwen Stacy. You don't have the luxury of being normal and I'm not exclusively talking about you being Spider-Woman either. Whether or not you'd like to admit it, you're special."

"You know, if you ever tell anyone that I'm Spider-Woman I'll probably kill you myself," Gwen spoke half-jokingly while the tiniest of grins crept across her face.

"That's better," he said when he noticed the sour girl's changed expression. "This Saturday, 6 pm, I'll come pick you up?"

The corner of Gwen's lip curled up, "I'm more of a meet you there kind of girl in case I decide to abandon you last minute."

"Fair enough," Stephen dipped his head at her. "Daniel's at 6:30 pm then? And this establishment is considered to be fine dining. That is, a certain level of dress is required."

"This is starting to sound like work," Gwen exhaled. "I'm not impressed by fancy clothes and fancy restaurants."

"My preference to it is for the sake of romance."

"Romance?" Gwen's voice went up. "Are you expecting romance?"

"It is a date, is it not?" he gave her a puzzled stare. "Typically, the implication of a date is that it contains romance of some kind."

"You try anything on me and I will break your arm," but Gwen's half-smile implied playfulness over her intended threat.

"Charming as ever," he subtly winked in response. "Enjoy the rest of-" he gestured at the sink full of stained trays, "-whatever this is."

"Oh, I will," she puffed out her cheeks and turned away from him as he left her to her menial task.

Gwen Stacy read the fifth text from her friend MJ which had been preceded by two missed calls and two unheard voicemails. The fifth text read, 'OK gb Gwen'. It wasn't an overly complicated or long text, but Gwen didn't need to hear those voicemails or even read MJ's other texts to know what it was all about. Gwen's heart sank into her stomach at the thought of Mary Jane leaving or rather, at the thought of how terrible of a friend Gwen had been. Gwen wouldn't say good-bye to her friend; she wouldn't even acknowledge it. She was too much of a coward to face friends who had left her behind.

It wasn't them who left Gwen, it was Gwen who had disappointed them and she knew it. She couldn't cope with having to argue with MJ again about why Gwen wouldn't go. It would be the same again and again; their argument would run itself into the ground going around in circles. The other option, the option Gwen avoided, was, of course, telling Mary Jane who she really was. She could say that she was Spider-Woman and that it was her fault that Peter had died, but why would she ever do that? Why risk whatever small, crumbling pieces of a relationship that Gwen had left with her proclaimed best friend Mary Jane? Why push her best friend further towards that edge? These were the excuses Gwen Stacy used to protect herself from honesty.

Spider-Woman was probably the best stalker on planet Earth, and Detective Terry Lee was a poor creature of habit. Stalking him was rarely a challenge despite where his police work would take him. If Lee wasn't on the case, he'd be doing one of three things: Drinking alone at home, going for the same 3.5mile jog, or punching someone's lights out at Gleason's Boxing Gym. Also, he attended the gym consistently with the same two officers. A Police Lieutenant by the name of Andrea Ainsley and a regular PD officer by the name of Martin Rubio would often accompany the detective. Gwen probably knew Lee's habits better than he did himself.

When Gwen entered the modestly sized gym, she was hit by a sudden wave of warm humidity followed by the strong scent of disinfectant. At least they kept the place clean, she gathered from the stench. She saw Terry Lee and his officer pals at the far corner of the room practicing in one of the three rings. The space felt overcrowded with exercise equipment, punching bags, and a plethora of posters advertising future and past matches. One of those posters was of Muhammad Ali which hung at the top of a mirrored wall at the back of the gym. Very cliché, Gwen thought to herself.

Gwen watched Terry and Martin practicing jabs as their buddy Andrea leaned on the sideline ropes closely studying the two men spar. Peter once thought that it was a good idea for Gwen to learn how to fight as her newfound alter-ego. He explained to her that most super-heroes in any worthwhile comic book had some sort of practice or expertise with a martial art. He eventually managed to convince her to take Muay Thai classes with him, but Gwen knew it was a bad idea straight out of the gate.

Gwen Stacy's first lesson was with a so-called Muay Thai master who had been practicing the combat sport since she was five. Gwen had exactly two problems with this situation. The first problem was that Gwen had a great distaste for egomaniacal individuals, and the teacher of this particular Muay Thai class was no exception. Her second problem was that Gwen had little to no understanding of just how powerful she was which for the most part still holds up today. In conclusion, Gwen decided she was going to take the over-confident instructor down a peg or two.

Peter had begun the training session and the instructor gave him more than a few hard knocks. Gwen could see the look of pure satisfaction on the woman's face and felt a volatile reaction toward the Muay Thai master. So, Gwen intervened and asked the instructor to go one-on-one with her. Gwen's original intent was to just give the instructor a rough kick to the chest or something else that would throw the wind out of the woman's lungs but rarely do plans go as expected for Gwen Stacy. Instead of kicking the master in the chest, Gwen ended up kicking the woman directly in the face while she was attempting to dodge the blow. Not only did Gwen knock the master out cold, but she accidentally broke the woman's jaw, too. So, that was the end of Gwen Stacy's martial arts days and instead, she opted for reading Bruce Lee's Fighting Method; although, she couldn't recall ever using the techniques she read about in the book.

Gwen sauntered across the dim cement floor and over to the group of practicing officers. At first, when Lee caught a glimpse of Gwen at the edge of his vision, he wasn't sure who it was. There were two situations where Lee had come to associate her face with: The Spider-Woman outfit and the time he saw her at the PBA charity. The few times she removed her mask in front of Lee was exclusively in the darkness of the night. As well, when Lee saw her at the charity she was wearing that unforgettably flattering peach-colored, lace dress. Neither of these previously mentioned scenarios was an accurate reflection of how Gwen presented herself on a day to day basis.

Lee may not have initially recognized the young woman from her oversized, grey Columbia University hooded sweatshirt or her worn-out, black jeans, but he was undoubtedly able to identify Gwen Stacy from her natural platinum-blonde hair.

Terry raised his gloved hands at his practicing opponent, "Hold up."

Martin relaxed his guard to look in the direction of the young woman that Lee had been staring at. "Hey there," he stuck his chin out at Gwen and curled the corner of his lip.

"Give me a second," Lee pushed up the rope next to Andrea and stepped through.

Andrea sprang around to face Gwen, "Who's this?" she smiled at the blonde.

"Just a friend," Lee took the small step off the boxing ring and onto the floor while gesturing with a gloved fist at his perspiring officer pals.

Gwen blinked between the two half-naked officers and offered Terry a shallow grin.

"What are you doing here?" Lee asked as he attempted to catch his breath. As he did so, he inhaled the sweet yet subtle scent of grass and flowers coming off of Gwen's pale skin. Spider-Woman or Gwen Stacy, she always smelled that way. If he couldn't recognize her from her platinum head of hair, he certainly would have recognized her from the way she smelled.

"You know, the usual," Gwen entwined her fingers behind her back and leaned to one side. "The million questions I always have to ask."

Lee rubbed at the ridge of his brow then briefly glanced back at his workout partners. "This isn't the place," he responded. "Why not just break into my apartment in the middle of the night and scare the shit out of me like you always do?"

"Remember? I like to keep you on your toes."

After she said this, Lieutenant Andrea with her dense frame jumped off the edge of the ring. "Aren't you going to introduce us to your little friend, Lee?"

Lee pursed his lips as he turned to face the probing Lieutenant. "This is Gwen Stacy-"

"Oh hey, yeah!" the lieutenant interrupted him. "Your Captain Stacy's kid, right?"

Gwen showed the brusque woman a small nod. "Yup," she answered.

"Wanna go a round with us?" Andrea scanned Gwen's run-of-the-mill physique. "You know how to fight? I can show you."

"Uuuh," Gwen apprehensively bared her teeth at the towering woman. "I can fight, but that's not really what I'm here for…"

Lee shifted his stance to block Gwen from Andrea's line of sight. "Probably not a good idea," he added.

Andrea placed a firm, gloved hand on top of Lee's shoulder. "Are you afraid that I'm going to hurt your little girlfriend? Don't worry Terry, I'll play nice."

Gwen stepped around Lee to get closer to Andrea. "First off, only in his wildest dreams am I his girlfriend and second, I doubt you could actually hurt me."

With wide eyes and downturned brows, Lee spun around to glare at Gwen, "How about we talk about what you came here to talk about?"

Andrea, who matched Lee in height and stature, gave him a quick shove to the side. "Whoa, whoa, whoa," she grinned at Gwen. "If the little girl thinks she can take me, where's the harm in going a round?"

Gwen leaned back and crossed her arms over before speaking, "I think I could send your sorry ass to the hospital if I wanted to."

Lee wedged his torso between the two women. "Not gonna happen," he scowled into Gwen's eyes as he said this.

"Terry," Andrea slapped his naked shoulders. "If this little twig wants to have a go, I say we have some fun."

A sly grin spread across Gwen's lips as she focused her impish stare on Andrea. "Yeah, Terry. Just for fun. No harm in having a little bit of fun."

"It's settled then!" Andrea clapped her boxing gloves together. "Get some gloves on this girl," she spoke as she twisted her body to face Martin.

While Gwen attempted to move toward the ring, Lee pushed his covered palm onto her upper chest, "Don't do a thing," he rasped at her in a muted tone.

Gwen winked at him, "Not a thing."


	21. Chapter 21:When You Wear It

When nothing lasts forever, how long can a person honestly hold onto their innocence? Somewhere through our adventurous little lives, something comes along that makes us destroy our youthful purity. And perhaps at the time, we don't stop to comprehend exactly what it was that we did to eliminate our childhood innocence. Maybe you pulled the wings from a fly, stole a beloved toy from a friend, or maybe it was far more sinister than that. No matter what it was that you did wrong, rest assured that you're never alone. All of us who have lost our innocence heard that call in the dark.

Gwen ambled over to Martin who was fumbling ham-fistedly at the Velcro straps on his burgundy mitts. After she patiently watched his struggle, he bent over to retrieve another pair of gloves from a gym bag on the floor next to the ring. Much like his friends Terry and Andrea, Martin was a particularly broad and muscled individual. If even half the PD were beefed up as much as these three, maybe the criminals of New York would have had something legitimate to be afraid of. However, beefed up or not, Gwen Stacy could still have easily thrashed all three of them in one go; not that she would ever do such a thing.

Holding the smaller pair of black gloves, Martin raised a brow at Gwen. "C'mon," he said. "Lift up those hands, little girl. These may look soft and cushy, but trust me, sweetie, they'll hurt if you get slapped by one."

"I'm aware," Gwen rolled her eyes at Martin while obeying his command. "No kicking, right?"

"Maybe in other sports," he let out a short grunt as he forcefully pushed the glove onto Gwen's one hand. "But this is a real man's sport."

"Then why am I doing this?" Gwen felt him pull the Velcro strap as tightly as he could around her thin wrist; was he trying to get a rise out of her? "And why is your friend Andrea doing this at all?"

"You get my meaning," he smacked her gloved palm down and started shoving the remaining one on her other hand. "It takes skill, patience, and intelligence. Like a game of chess."

"Do you play chess?" Gwen doubted.

"I box, little lady." He clutched both of her hands and smacked them together. "Have you ever boxed?"

"Not intentionally, but maybe accidentally at some point him my life," Gwen's gaze followed Andrea as the burly woman made her way through the ropes and onto the ring. "Now would be a good example of that."

Martin smirked at Andrea as she bounced back and forth on the tip of her toes. "You're the one who agreed to going a round. Not too late to back out, little girl," he told her.

"Oh no," Gwen shook out her arms, "Imma knock her out and you're gonna get upset and it isn't going to be a fun show to watch."

"Haha, right," his tone implied to Gwen Stacy that he didn't believe such a feat was possible coming from such an average human. Gwen could already picture Martin's gaping jaw hit the floor at the same moment Andrea's ass hit the mat.

As Lee tapped on Gwen's back, she pivoted to see his unimpressed demeanor. "Don't worry about it," she cringed with a toothy smile. "I won't do any permanent damage. I promise. I'd pinky swear you if I could."

"Who are you trying to impress?" Lee croaked in a hushed voice. "Because this isn't going to impress me."

"And when was I ever interested in impressing you?" her words sounded genuine to Lee which caused a sharp stab at his insides. "I'm doing it because it's fun to put people in their place. It's like the sole reason I fight baddies in the night, Terry."

"That sounds like something an asshole would say."

"I'm an asshole," Gwen whispered with beaming eyes. "You called me one, remember?"

"Spider-Woman is an asshole, Gwen Stacy isn't," he reminded her.

"And I told you, you don't know Gwen Stacy, you know Spider-Woman. So, stop pretending that I'm some sort of altruistic human being," she kept her quiet tone as she spat at him.

"I know you're not-"

But Andrea cut the detective off before he could finish his sentiments, "-Hey! Are we doing this or what? Some of us have important jobs to get to today."

"Oh, I'm ready!" Gwen stretched up on her tippy-toes.

Rarely do plans go as expected, Gwen reminded herself. She wanted to be true to her word with the detective; she wasn't going to hurt Andrea. Well, not hurt per se, but avoid causing the Amazonian woman any long-term damage. Gwen hadn't wasted too much thought on the lieutenant until she entered the ring with her. Amazonian woman was a pretty accurate descriptor in Gwen's mind; Andrea probably could have played Wonder Woman in a movie or TV show if she wished. Tall, wide, burly, sharp chin, dark hair; she was a picture from a magazine. In comparison, Gwen seemed too small and meek.

Gwen stared down at her gloves and sighed to herself, "What the fuck am I doing?"

"Pardon, little girl?" Andrea shouted from the opposing corner on the ring.

"Oh, you know. Just getting myself pumped," Gwen cupped her hands around her mouth.

"It's not too late," Andrea rapidly punched her gloves together. "I won't blame you for backing out now."

"Funny! I was just about to make the same offer," Gwen took one long step closer to her opponent.

Martin tugged at the ropes and stomped his feet on the mat just outside the ring. "I'll count to three, yeah?"

The two women nodded in agreement.

"One… Two…" he raised a fist skyward. "Three!"

Gwen didn't move a muscle, instead opting to let her sparring partner galivant and flutter meaninglessly back and forth across the mat. Yeah sure, Gwen thought; this was likely important in an actual head to head match where the other fighter couldn't T.K.O you in one move, but it was pointless here. Gwen wasn't a chess kind of girl, and she wasn't a tactics kind of girl either. You could call it lazy, but when you could overpower everyone so easily, you didn't need plans of action. You just needed action.

Andrea made a few quick flinches in Gwen's direction, making the pretense of an attack without actually attacking. Again, probably a great way to freak out your opponent, but Gwen would know when the real swing was coming. The fact that Gwen could distinguish between the two moves was even a surprise to herself. She liked to refer to this ability as her 'Spider-Sense'. The best way to explain it would be to say that she knew what a person was going to do a fraction of a second before they actually did it. However, this ability wasn't exclusive to people but it also applied to objects in her surrounding environment. She wasn't sure how it worked and it was indeed difficult to grasp at first, but essentially Gwen could briefly glimpse into the future. Or well, that's what it felt like to her.

"Ha!" Andrea growled. "Come at me."

"You first." Gwen still stood nonchalantly in her corner of the ring with her arms draped at her sides.

"You really don't know how to fight," Andrea was annoyed by Gwen's stillness.

"Come at me," Gwen hunkered herself into a squat and raised her fists in front of her.

"Haha!" Andrea cheered. "That's better!"

Carefully inching forward, Andrea bridged the gap between herself and Gwen's corner. She was now in striking distance of the young girl. Andrea was fast, almost too fast, but Gwen was even faster. Gwen bolted out of the way from the two consecutive jabs that Andrea threw at her. This caused the delighted smile to slip from Andrea's shining face and it was replaced by a stern frown.

"You're quick," Andrea realized she hadn't taken the girl seriously up until now. "Real quick."

From behind her gloved hands, Gwen mischievously smirked in response.

"That look isn't going to last for long!" Andrea flared her right arm outward as hard as she could, but Gwen sidestepped once more.

Gwen couldn't contain a chortle. "New challenge," she said. "How about you try to hit me once? And if you do, you win?"

"How about I just knock you out?" Andrea panted.

Gwen waited for Andrea to take another jab at her and when Andrea did, Gwen let the Amazon Warrior have it for good. Gwen ducked underneath Andrea's long reach and gave her a solid uppercut into her stomach. She rarely held back when punching another human being or inanimate object at that, but Gwen tried to restrain herself in this situation. Nonetheless, Andrea crumpled to the mat unable to catch her breath.

"Jeesus!" Martin bellowed at his fallen comrade while Lee waited quietly behind him.

Desperately grasping for air, Andrea spat gobs of saliva across the mat. "Oh… God…" she managed to bleat through her rasping breaths.

"Uuuhm," Gwen awkwardly bared her teeth. The hit was a lot harder than she had intended it to be.

Martin leaped over the ropes and slid next to his downed friend. "Shit, Andrea," he grabbed at her. "Are you alright?"

Shaking, she wrapped her arms around her torso. "Yeah… I'm… Okay…" she barely squeezed out the words.

Lee threw is boxing-gloves at the cement floor and hoped into the ring behind Gwen.

"I'm not going to say anything," his voice held a hint of anger. "Now that you're done showing off, can we talk?"

Gwen flipped around with a cheeky grin on her face. "Help me out?" she held her wrists out to him.

He wanted to be mad at her, enraged with her, frustrated with her, but being so close to her made it difficult for him to concentrate on anything but her pink lips and sweet smell- And he almost forgot why he was mad at her in the first place when he touched her slender wrists to unstrap the Velcro gloves. Almost.

"You came here for a reason?" Lee finished pulling the gloves off her and threw them to the mat.

"Remember that you're my Tango," she smiled up at his grimacing brows. "For one, I wanted to ask you about the cops…"

Both Lee and Gwen twisted their heads to Andrea as she grunted while Martin assisted her to her feet.

A wide look of disbelief filled Martin's expression. "That was crazy. Girl, you're tougher than you look. I'd be careful with that one, Terry."

"Sorry!" Gwen offered a false apology. "Sometimes I just don't know my own strength."

Andrea grasped at her friend. "No, no, I'm fine really," she coughed.

Gwen's mouth formed into a thin line as Lee sighed at her. "Yeah, sure you don't."

"That isn't a lie," she pointed up at him. "I'm a really bad judge when it comes to my own powers."

"Just-" Lee wrapped his fingers around Gwen's bicep and led her out of the ring.

"So handsy," Gwen allowed herself to be led. "But in all seriousness-" she exhaled when they were out of his fellow officer's earshot, "-I did come to see you for a reason."

"Get talking," Lee flopped down into a folding chair next to the mirrored wall.

"The officers…" her voice trailed off.

"I'm pretty sure they were both Hydra, Spi."

Gwen swiftly swiveled at his officer friends then back to Terry. "You might want to use my real name when we see each other publicly. Try not to fuck that up."

"Shit." He hadn't even realized he called her Spi in the first place.

"As cute as that nickname is, just call me Gwen. Unless I have the mask on, then please don't call me Gwen."

"I got it," he leaned on his knee and folded forward. "They were working for Kingpin, but we don't have any way to actually prove that. Like I said, it's their word against no ones."

"And Alistair and the Lizard, what do they have to do with any of this? Have you seen or heard from either of them?" she probed.

"I don't know anything about your mystery man and no one is looking for the Lizard, so…" he raised his chin to offer her a grave stare. "Until he attacks someone else, we're probably not going to be able to do anything about it."

"So, I can either hope to never find him or hope he kills someone else so I can find him?" Gwen spun around on her heels and frowned at the room which was mostly devoid of human bodies. "Catch 22, right?"

"I'd rather he not kill anyone else," Lee added. "If he can stay buried forever, that is fine by me."

"Fuck the woman who already died?" she moved her frown to him. "Peter and her will never see justice? We'll never find out what's going on?"

"It isn't that, Gwen. It's just of everything right now, don't you think it's more important to think about the killers currently out there trying to frame Spider-Woman for murders she didn't commit? Don't you think that's more important right now?"

"I don't prioritize justice."

"Then you're not living in the real world."

"How fucking cold of you, Terry," she started to walk away from him.

"Wait, Sp- Gwen!" he got up after her. "Hold on!" he jogged to meet her pace and latched onto her arm. "I'm not saying I'm forgetting them, but let's do what we can right now. I came up with a plan if you'll help me out."

She stopped in her tracks to look at him quizzically. "You have a plan?"

"I have a plan," he repeated.

"What kind of plan?"

"My kind of plan."

"Be more specific."

"You got the badge number of that one cop and I got his name from it," he suspiciously glanced around the vacant room and pushed his face closer to hers. "Jerald Quincey; I got his home address."

"Okay…" Gwen felt a tinge of discomfort when the detective leaned closer to her face.

"I also know his shifts; when he's on and off duty. We might be able to find out who he hangs out with, where he goes, what he does. Find out who else on the PD is working for Kingpin."

"Well, give me his address and I'll get to stalking," she shifted her head back and gradually wiggled free from Lee's grip.

"I said I had a plan," a pang of dejection cut through him once he saw her reaction to him. "My, uh…" he lost his train of thought.

"Your plan?"

"My plan…" he momentarily placed his rejection to the side. "Right, uh- Well, here's my idea. You tag Quincey and keep tabs on him and I break into his apartment while he's gone."

Both her eyebrows raised in surprise. "Are you serious?" she asked. "You know that's against the law, right? I'm the vigilante here. And are you hoping to find something?"

"Maybe," he shrugged. "They're up to some bad shit and I'll take whatever I can get."

"You can't make convictions with stolen evidence," she reminded the detective.

"I'm know how it works, Gwen. But I'm not looking to make a conviction. Right now, I'm just looking to find out who Kingpin is before… Before this gets out of hand."

"Before this gets out of hand?" Gwen scoffed. "I think we're past that at this point."

"Okay, well, before things get worse then," he nodded. "At least if we know who Kingpin is, we know who to go after."

"Sure you can handle breaking into his apartment? I'm pretty good when it comes to bypassing security systems."

"I'm a cop, Gwen. I think I can handle it." He suddenly became aware of the dry sweat pasted to his bare chest. He stretched his arm above his head and sniffed at himself.

"Disgusting," Gwen stuck her tongue out at him in disapproval. "When are we doing this?"

He lowered his arm. "Tonight, hopefully. If you're free. If you're too busy I'll still do this on my own."

"When am I ever busy?" Gwen haughtily crossed her arms.

"I don't know. You could have family plans… Boyfriend plans?" his last two words were a careful slight to probe her for more information.

"Uh-huh," she scrutinized his question with a squint. "Never really been the boyfriend kinda girl."

"Girlfriend?"

"Let's say I'm not a romantic relationship kind of girl."

"I saw you with that man at the party. You know, the tall, handsome, white dude," he couldn't help but mention it to the lying woman.

"You interested?" she gave him a crooked smirk. "I can get you his number."

"Just saying-" he lifted his gloves in a passive shrug, "-you two looked pretty cozy to me."

"He's a friend, maybe…" her last word trailed off. "What does it matter? Do you have a point here, detective?"

"Just don't want to take up your personal time, is all," he replied defensively.

"Being Spider-Woman is my personal time," she jabbed her index finger at her own chest. "If anything, being Spider-Woman is all I have."

"Alright," he felt sadness towards her statement. "I'll send you the address; meet me tonight."

"Don't be late." She walked past him and made an overly exaggerated sniff at the air. "And take a shower," she added. "There's no way you're sneaking into somebody's apartment smelling like a wet dog."

"Thanks…" he vacantly stared in her direction as she left the gym.

Benito Howse's legacy lived on, well at least in the continuing function of his local nightclubs despite his untimely death. Who did Benito leave his clubs to in his final will and testament, Gwen pondered? He probably didn't have a will or ever thought he needed one and it probably didn't truly matter whose hand's it ended up in, so long as they kept bringing in hoes, and blow, and trafficked foreign girls. Gwen visualized herself perched on a rooftop laughing like a mad-woman as the three clubs in question burned into cinders before the audience of cheering New Yorkers. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea.

Detective Terry Lee, although being a detective, wasn't sure what he was searching for when he broke into Quincey's bachelor apartment. What were the chances anything would be there? How foolish were these members of Hydra? The singular item that kept Terry out of Quincey's apartment was a flimsy lock that could have been kicked off its hinges by a five-year-old girl. It was kind of a cop habit, Terry had noticed over the years. As an officer of the law, always armed and specifically trained to take down perps, someone breaking into your own apartment never seemed like much of a threat.

As Spider-Woman hovered on a distant lamppost observing Jared Quincey's visit to one of Benito's famous clubs, she noticed something unsurprising yet equally fascinating. Gwen Stacy's combatant from earlier that day joyfully greeted Jared Quincey when he arrived at the club. Now, this doesn't prove anything about Andrea's involvement with Hydra or Kingpin, but Gwen would be hard-pressed to believe the burly Amazon didn't have some sort of allegiance with them. Did Lee know; did Lee care? Was Lee secretly aligned with Hydra himself and was baiting Spider-Woman along this whole time? That last thought was just ridiculous conjecture. Lee may have been a decent detective, but he was far too clumsy and predictable to have hidden a fact like that from Gwen. No, if anything, she surmised that Lee had no idea his buddy Andrea was a member of Hydra.

Terry groped around his belt searching for his pocket-sized flashlight as he gingerly closed the apartment door behind him. When Lee popped the little flashlight out of its clip, it fumbled through his thick fingers and clattered dramatically onto the floor. He made a silent gasp and cringed at the loud noise. He noticed that Gwen Stacy/Spider-Woman had the grace and footfall of a wild jungle cat, meanwhile, Terry had the grace of a six-foot-two man who weighed over 200lbs, so no grace at all. He carefully squatted to reach for the fallen flashlight but heard both his knees crack in the process. And after grabbing it from the hardwood floor his knees cracked once more as he straightened his legs. Graceful.

Gwen stretched her arms and spine out while yawning at the smogged night. She shifted impatiently back and forth on the high lamppost and sniffled through her humid mask. She had watched Quincey make friendly with Andrea and those who Gwen assumed were more of his cop buddies outside the bar before the large group went in. Breaking and entering was by far the more fascinating part of Lee's plan, however, Gwen was by far the better stalker of the two. Well, by far she was probably the more gifted of the two when it came to home invasion, but she appreciated Lee's enthusiasm to help out. On most occasions, it was Lee who would give Spider-Woman information and then he'd let her have at it, although, not this time. It was good that the detective wanted to get more involved with the seedier elements of crime fight or maybe it was a bad thing? One tiny mistake could shatter Lee's life both physically and socially, but how about Spider-Woman? She was the cat with nine lives.

The air in Jared Quincey's bachelor pad was stagnant from windows being left unopened on a warm spring day. Lee shone his flashlight across the hardwood floor and noticed the tracks of dirt and dust scattered around the doorway. He kept the strobe of his light to the ground as he crept around the unoccupied room. The homely pad was likely no bigger than six-hundred square feet and had also likely never been cleaned. How the fuck could somebody live like this, Lee wondered? His own apartment wasn't immaculate, but at least he scrubbed the stove and swept the goddamn floor once in a while. Lee stepped over piles of loose clothing and random cans of beer scattered where ever there was an inch of space. As he got closer to the bed, the smell of old, dried booze wafted up to his nostrils. He was regretting his part of the plan where Gwen got to enjoy the fresh night air… Or rather, whatever fresh air you could get in New York.

Unnoticed by all around her, Spider-Woman was playing a heated game of rock-paper-scissors by her lonesome atop the lamppost. Keep your hands busy, keep your mind busy, or somebody said maybe at some point but Gwen wasn't sure she could remember where from.

"Please, please, please, Lee. Phone me or something," she begged as she lost another round to herself.

Her mind paced back and forth; Dr. Strange, Terry Lee, May, dad, Kingpin, Mary Jane, Peter… Peter. What would Peter be doing right now if he was still alive, she wondered? What would Peter-

Her mind's ramblings yielded to her vibrating phone. "Finally," she sighed with relief. "Yes?" she answered.

"I found something," Lee spoke to her from the other line.

"That's certainly more than I can say, although I did find out something-"

"That can wait," his dull tone stopped her. "I found a stack of court documents in his place. They must be transcripts from a court reporter."

"Okay," Gwen bent her legs and launched herself off the lamppost to land on the railing of a nearby parking garage. "And this matters because…?"

"It matters because they're testimonies given by people saying that Fisk Industries wrongfully pushed them out of their own homes."

"Oooh," Gwen could have sworn she heard an oven-timer chime in her mind the moment he said it. "Well, isn't that fascinating?"


	22. Chapter 22: Don't Get You Saved

There are those of us who face our hidden demons and dark shadows behind the veil of society. They don't belong anywhere; they don't feel like they're a part of the world's bigger picture. They wade through the thorns and barbs that their minds have trapped them in. They wear disguises amongst us; we never truly know who they are deep down. Because they know that if we were to find out the truth about them, we'd reject them. Or so they say. But the truth is, every last one of us is painted in this wall of deceit. We all stand behind this wall of protection and comfort and loneliness. We all live alone inside of our own minds. We all die alone.

Everything became crystal clear in the same moment it became alien to Gwen Stacy. Her, May, and her father had gone out that Friday night to celebrate George's fifty-first year surviving the city that never sleeps; the city that chews you up and spits you back out. For the most part, Gwen was silent throughout the lowkey family dinner at dad's favorite dive: The Broken York. Dive may have been an overstatement or understatement depending on who in town you asked. It was a quaint Ma' and Pa' diner that reeked of fifteen-year-old grease-covered grills the instant you walked in. Blue vinyl seats, checkered linoleum floor, cobwebbed fans lazily spinning above the booths were some of the fine décors to be found in the crumbling establishment. All of this and more was what George Stacy would call 'charm'.

Gwen felt a strong sense of dissociation towards the whole affair. It was like it wasn't her life that she was living at this moment. She stared at the reflection of her family that bounced off the streaked window next to their both. Gwen lifted her hand imagining that it wasn't going to follow the motion, but it did. She poked at the top of her cheekbone with her fingernail and pushed at the dark circle of exhaustion beneath her eye. There was a chance that two hours of sleep a night wasn't enough to sustain Spider-Woman in the long run. It would be a relief to simply die of exhaustion, Gwen sighed at her unrecognizable reflection. Who are you even, she asked inwardly?

"Gwen?" George saw the space in her blank eyes.

Mouth open, she blinked in his direction, "Huh?"

"You there?" George raised his shaggy eyebrows at her. "You haven't said much tonight."

"Just in the middle of an existential crisis," a smile drifted across her lips.

May sniffed at the air and nodded in agreement, "Get those all the time myself, hun."

George looked to May then back at his daughter. "What is an existential crisis and how can I avoid it?" he joked.

Gwen's chapped lips stuck together as her smile returned. "I'm afraid there's nothing you can do about it. Comes to us all eventually."

Patting George's shoulder, May let out a small laugh, "Maybe when you're older you'll understand."

"I've been around long enough to have a few existential crises myself. Had to give 'em up though, they're not really healthy."

Gwen planted her elbow on the table and cradled her forehead in her palm.

"Seriously, Gwen," his jesting tone faded. "Are you doing alright?"

"Oh, yeah!" Gwen's hand flopped down as she vigorously shook her head. "Just been tired lately. Not sleeping well."

"Have you thought about taking something to help you?" he picked up his stained ceramic mug to take a sip of cold, stale coffee.

"Besides booze?"

"Besides booze," his voice was muffled by the cup. "There are other things besides booze."

"Oh, like Ambien or something?" she squinted at him with one eye. "Because no one has ever tried to kill themselves taking prescription meds."

An exasperated sigh left George's lungs, "Here we go."

May reached her hand across the table and gently placed it over Gwen's. "Let's not get into this. Both of you have been very civil this evening."

"I'm always civil," Gwen said sarcastically. "It's the rest of the world whom lacks civility."

George smirked at his daughter through his bushy beard.

Without warning, a grim expression suddenly appeared on Gwen's face. Something felt incredibly wrong like the churning you get in your stomach when you trip on an uneven sidewalk, but this feeling wasn't fleeting for Gwen; it stuck to the insides of her gut.

A muffled yell came from across the street at the edge of Central Park. Then there was another yell, then another yell, then someone shrieked in horror. Both George and his daughter Gwen bolted up from the table, perking their heads toward to unclean window. It was difficult to see through the glaring reflective light on the glass and into the city's twilight. Gwen was able to make out the rapid scampering of people fleeing from Central Park.

Still in her seat, May peered up at the two of them. "What's going on?" she asked.

Gwen frowned at the running people. "I don't know," she spoke as another scream sounded through the evening. Her eyes darted to her father than back out the window. Few situations caused people to run in horror, especially in Northern America, but it wasn't unheard of. Mass shootings had become an epidemic in the US with incidents on the rise every year, but Gwen figured this couldn't have been a shooting. If it was, how come she hadn't heard any gunshots?

George shuffled himself and May out of the diner's cramped booth. "You stay here," he looked down at his girlfriend. "Both of you," he pointed at Gwen.

"Not gonna happen," Gwen glared.

"Not gonna argue," he reaffirmed his gesture.

May wrapped both her hands around Gwen's forearm. "Stay in here, hun," she reluctantly asked.

"What?" Gwen muttered, but she registered what her step-mother was getting at. She couldn't act like the Spider-Woman when she wasn't wearing the mask.

Having no time left to argue, George reached for the service pistol at his belt and made a quick trot to the diner's front exit.

"I'm sorry," Gwen spoke as she pulled away from her mother's grip to chase after her father.

"Gwen!" May shouted after the girl.

"Stay here!" Gwen pivoted backward as she pushed open the diner doors and made her way onto the street.

George stood at the curb staring over into Central Park at what he could only assume was a man in the most elaborate Halloween costume George had ever seen. The man, creature, whatever, was seven feet tall at the very least and had a green, slithering tail at least as long as the rest of its body. Essentially, whoever or whatever it was, looked like a giant lizard.

Gwen stood next to her dad, gaping at the monster. "Jesus," the word trailed from her mouth. It didn't look exactly the way Peter did when he transformed into the Lizard. This Lizard was taller, wider, meaner than her deceased friend had appeared that far off day.

The Lizard's mouth of a thousand-pointed blades foamed as his tight lips curled to reveal a demonic smile. "You," his yellow slit eyes focused on George. "I've been looking for you, Captain."

Gwen's face distorted into confusion. "What?" she stared at her father who looked just as confused as herself.

The Lizard took a wide step out onto the street; his bare, three-pronged foot unfurled across the pavement. Gwen could feel her heart quicken as she noticed drops of human gore fall from the Lizard's clawed fingertips. George shifted his weight forward to block his daughter from the oncoming menace. She felt his panicked heart pounding in his chest and she heard his trembling exhales. George steadily rose his pistol to meet the vicious critter's mischievous glare.

"Tsk, tsk, Captain," the large creature hissed. "What do you plan on doing with that?"

Gwen's brows deeply furrowed, however, she could hear the blaring of sirens coming from only a few blocks away. Hopefully, it would be enough to scare him off.

His devilish grin faded and he growled, "Your time is up!" He leaped the remaining distance across the road and to the diner with claws flared out.

George squeezed the trigger on his pistol and as the loud booming echoed off the buildings behind him, he tumbled to the ground. He stared up in confusion to realize his daughter had given him a hard shove to the ground. Immobilized by shock, he watched the Lizard latch onto Gwen and crash through the diner's front window in one swift motion.

"You want to die?!" the Lizard stood over Gwen grinding his massive foot in her chest as her back crunched into the shattered glass below her.

She winced in pain and placed her hands on the monster's clawed foot, but she noticed her dad had gotten up from the ground and was now aiming his pistol through the broken window and at the Lizard's back. If she dared to defend herself, not only would the Lizard become suspicious of who Gwen Stacy was, but her father would become a witness of an unbelievable feat.

"I think you want to die, too!" his scathing, high-pitched voice rang in her ears. He raised a clawed hand and sliced her face at the same time George fired into the monster's back. His mouth turned up into a ferocious grin as he cackled at George's futile attempt to stop the Lizard.

Outside the diner, three police cruisers screeched to a halt with howling sirens. The Lizard glared down at Gwen's blood-covered face, although he didn't see tears or pain in her eyes, just anger. How peculiar, he grinned down at her.

"Some other time, child," he cackled again while lifting his heavy foot off of her chest.

Her eyes followed him as he slunk into the diner's kitchen knocking plates off the counter with his long tail as he did so. George jumped through the broken window and climbed over the tight booth to reach his daughter who was still laying on the floor.

"Gwen!" he cried as he crouched into the shards of glass. "Honey?"

She waved her hand to give him a thumbs up. "I'm… Fine…"

"I need an ambulance right now!" he shouted at the cops behind him.

Presently, May poked her head up from behind the diner's bar and peered at her step-daughter. She was taken aback when she saw Gwen's unrecognizable face coated in a mask of blood. "Gwen!" she flung herself over the counter and stumbled into George.

Gwen winced as she lifted her head. "Worse than it looks…" she croaked. "Honestly."

"No, Gwen…" Upon closer inspection of Gwen's face, May could see three vertical tears along the left side of her face. One of the rips had missed Gwen's eye by only a centimeter.

Gritting her teeth, Gwen sat up as her father cradled her. "Ah," he flinched as he cut his palm on one of the shards sticking out of her back. "I said get a damn EMT over here already!" he yelled again. "You're going to be fine," he reassured Gwen.

"I know," Gwen didn't need the reassurance. She was positive it looked worse than it felt, although it did feel pretty bad, she knew she'd live to see another day. "You okay?" she asked her dad.

He gave her a frown of concern. "You shouldn't have done that," he was referring to the shove.

"Too late." Gwen shifted her feet below her and allowed her father to guide her off the floor. "I'm seriously okay though."

"What planet are you on, Gwen?" a hint of anger came through his sad expression. "You're face is covered in blood."

"Head wounds always bleed a lot. It's a lot worse than it looks," she tried to convince him.

"Either way we're taking you to the hospital." He watched two stunned NYPD officers bang through the diner door and stare in awe at Gwen.

"I don't need to go to the hospital," Gwen's pleading eyes darted to her mother.

"Not arguing about this," George curled his arm around her even tighter which caused her to squirm in discomfort at the shards penetrating her skin. "We're taking you to the hospital."

May latched on to Gwen's underarm. "Go get the car and bring it around," she told George.

"Where's that goddamn EMT?!" George barked at the unmoving officers.

May plucked at his shoulder and pointed out the broken window to where two ambulances were loading up people on stretchers. "They've got their hands full. We can take her to NYP."

George reluctantly let go of Gwen. "I'll be right back; meet me outside!" he shouted back as he ran out the diner.

Licking at the fresh blood plastered to her mouth, Gwen offered May a pained huff. "You know I can't go to the hospital," she whispered.

"I'm sorry, Gwen, but we can't leave you like this." May wiped her hand over the girl's forehead, pushing back matted, red-stained hair.

"I can't…" Gwen whimpered back. "May, I can't go."

"They're just going to sew you up, it'll be fine," she tried to calm Gwen's worries.

"You don't know that," Gwen shuffled forward with her mother.

"Everything is going to be fine," May strained against Gwen's weight; the girl was heavier than she looked. "I'll stick with you and make sure nothing happens."

When the trio arrived at New York-Presbyterian Hospital, triage had been filled with victims from the Lizard's public strike. There was shouting and yelling and crying from every corner of the waiting room. Nurses and doctors desperately scrambled around the group of injured people, rushing stretchers which housed much more unfortunate victims than any of them. Gwen counted five stretchers that flew by them with people who had been eviscerated by the Lizard. Why be so bold now of all times, Gwen wondered? Furthermore, what business did the Lizard have with her father?

Gwen must have been in quite the state given the looks of horror that crossed the faces of everyone she passed. She caught her reflection on a glass door and was unable to recognize herself mostly due to the blood that coated her face. She raised a trembling hand at one of the long, vertical cuts-

"Here," May pulled down Gwen's hand and put a large pad of gauze in her hand. "I got it from a nurse."

Gwen stared blankly at the sheet of material only now registering that she had been left alone. "Where's dad?" she asked as she put the bandage over the left side of her face.

May gestured with her eyes at the intake desk for triage. George had managed to push past the line and was now arguing with a nurse who was clearly losing her patience.

"I'm a cop!" George's shout was almost lost in the loud murmuring of the room.

With half her face covered, Gwen peered at May with one eye. "You should probably stop him before they call security," she exhaled.

May lent Gwen a soft smile, "Your face is bleeding, you have pieces of glass stuck in you, but I don't think I've ever seen you act so calm."

"What?" she wasn't sure what May's meaning was. "I've been hurt before, May."

May looked back at George who was now arguing with two nurses. "For the sake of George, at least act like this isn't normal."

"It's far from normal," Gwen's expression fell. "A monster attacked innocent New Yorkers and he was trying to kill dad, too. My injuries, they're the last thing on my mind right now."

The male nurse placed his hand on George's arm in an attempt to soothe the man's concerns, but George wasn't having it, "My daughter needs to see a doctor; that's what needs to happen here!" he snapped at the young man.

"Maaay," Gwen jabbed her head in George's direction. "Go stop him, please, I'll be fine here."

May pursed her lips and gave Gwen a nod of agreement before scampering to the desk. Still holding the bandage to her face, Gwen twisted around the crowded room in search of a place to sit. She got a glimpse of an empty seat sandwiched between an older gentleman clutching a broken hand and a woman so pale she looked as if she was seconds away from collapsing onto the floor. Gwen shuffled a leg forward but felt a shooting pain rush down her spine. She glanced over her shoulder and at her back then to the empty chair. Now that she thought about it, sitting down was probably a bad idea.

Not sure what to do with herself, Gwen stood in the middle of the busy waiting area being pushed from side to side as nurses and doctors rushed around the area.

"You're in shock," a deep voice from nowhere she could see spoke to her.

She squinted at the room, flipping in a circle, "What…?"

Two slender yet large hands clasped the top of her shoulders. "You're acting like someone who's in shock," a man's face materialized in front of her, or so it seemed. "So, in conclusion, you might be in shock."

She rapidly blinked, trying to clear her distorted vision. "What?" she repeated.

"Gwen, I think you're in shock," he spoke thoughtfully as if it would make a difference to whether or not she understood what he said.

She pressed the bandage into her face, turning down her one brow. "Doc?" now she recognized who was in front of her. "What are you doing here?"

He fixed his eyes on the blue scrubs he wore. "I'm a doctor, remember?"

"Yeah, but what are you doing at this hospital?"

"Just got out of surgery," Strange tilted his head at her odd comment. "What do you mean: what am I doing at this hospital?"

"You're a resident at Columbia University Medical Center, aren't you?" she swept a flap of damp hair away from her eye with her free hand. "So, what are you doing here?"

"Saving someone's life," he reached for her elbow and guided her closer to him. Of course, she knew what hospital he worked at and she probably knew where he lived, too; it was what sleuths did best. "I was about to leave, but I see you could use some assistance. Lizard get you, too?"

Standing an inch away from his face, she turned her head to the noisy room. "I didn't get it half as bad as some…"

"In fact, you got it far worse than most," he corrected her. "I'll find you somewhere where we can-" he peered over her shoulder and down her back "-take all of that glass out of you…"

"My face isn't doing much better," a smile crossed her mouth, but the quick pain made her regret the gesture.

"I noticed…" He was far more curious about Gwen's condition than he was concerned. "That appears to be the case."

Gwen lifted her steady hand and pointed at the triage intake desk. "Should probably tell my parents before they get upset that I'm gone."

He followed her point across the room. "That does explain your presence here."

"Family dinner…" she paused while examining her father's horribly annoyed expression. "Birthday dinner, actually."

"I'll inform them," he let go of her and moved toward the couple. "Don't go anywhere."

Gwen flapped her one arm at him, "I have nowhere to go."

After Gwen was situated behind a dividing curtain and onto a bed, Strange peeled the loose bandage from her face. She winced with her eyes as the gauze stuck to her bloodied face.

Stephen's eyes went wide as he revealed her face. "That doesn't look very good…"

Gwen strained to open her one eye which had been caked with dried blood. "Where's your bedside manner?"

"I was never one to lie to patients," he dropped the red gauze into a bin on the floor and grabbed a wet cloth from a small bucket that rested on the bedside tray. "People need to know the truth, no matter how difficult it may be to process."

He touched the cool, damp cloth to her face. "Is it really that bad?" she asked. "Doesn't feel that bad."

"As usual, your constitution is impeccable," he dapped at the blood on her face, trying not to put too much pressure on her wounds. "And remarkable, for the most part, the bleeding appears to have stopped. Although…"

"Although?" she watched him lower his arm.

"I can't imagine you won't have a scar from this," he returned to gently rubbing her wound with the cloth. "You need surgery, skin grafts probably."

"Not gonna happen." Surgery of any kind was far beyond what Gwen Stacy was willing to accept. She spent a third of her life laying on a table undergoing surgery, and she wasn't about to start again.

"I figured you'd say something along those lines." He wasn't surprised by the ever-resilient Spider-Woman. "But I warn you, it isn't going to fully heal."

"I'm Spider-Woman, remember?" she mocked his previous comment of reminding her that he was a doctor. "I'll be fine. I'm always fine."

"Now, that, I doubt." He remoistened the cloth and wiped the blood away from her eye.

She turned her stare away from him, patiently waiting for him to finish cleaning her face. After five minutes he placed the cloth back down and carefully examined the slashes. The vertical cuts along the side of her face were more than just that; they were gashes. A thread of flesh was missing from her cheek and if it would have been anyone else, Strange would have expected more struggling and agony while he was cleaning the deep wound. But Gwen, well Gwen… It was obvious that she was in pain with her constant twitching and wincing, but not even the smallest of sighs left her mouth. It was inhuman to see such a thing.

"I can give you some stitches, but they can only do so much for you," he explained.

"Okay, sure," Gwen's expression was unconcerned, neutral, without worry.

"You seem incredibly calm for someone who was attacked by a giant monster," he observed her lack of overall emotion. "Considering he attacked a group of individuals…"

"What- what am I supposed to do?" she gave him a shrug. "I can't do anything about it right now. But don't mistake my current calmness… For that."

"I see," he grabbed onto her chin and twisted her head up. "This will probably hurt."

"No more than anything else," and the water that gathered at the corner of her eyes gave her away. "He tried to kill my father…"

He didn't ask her to elaborate nor did he ask her if she was going to be alright, instead he carefully knitted a needle through her flesh watching the occasional tear drip from her red, sullen eyes. When he was finished he silently wrapped a bandage around the side of her face, covering the better half of her skull. It certainly wasn't a flattering look and Strange could imagine how distorted the left side of her face was going to appear after it healed. Or perhaps not, he thought. After all, she was the one and only Spider-Woman and it would be a shame to see her pretty face go to waste over her stubbornness.

Gwen felt around her bandaged face as if it wasn't even her own; just a stranger's face. The face of someone else; someone who wasn't her.

"We should probably do something about the glass lodged in your back," he finally said after watching the peculiar way she groped at her bandages. "We'll have to remove your shirt."

Gwen was about to speak then stopped herself then started again, "No. I'd rather you not."

"Legally I can't force you," he rolled his shoulders back. "It will make things unnecessarily difficult and I won't be able to properly bandage you and-"

"-Just… just," she tried to concentrate on him, but her eyes kept drifting around unable to focus. How did she end up here in this place, like this? And she didn't mean the hospital or Dr. Strange or the injuries. She meant on Earth as Spider-Woman with this shitty, shitty life. Why did she deserve any of it?


	23. Chapter 23: And It's Been Years

On the ever so rare occasion, we can become instilled with a new sense of purpose in life. The road to the future becomes paved in gold and all the silver linings shine through the cloudy skies. It is in these moments we regain our passionate vigor in existence and strive for a life not once lived. Tomorrow will be the day we become the person we have always dreamed of being. Tomorrow will be the day we push through the noise of our dreary, depressing thoughts and make the best of everything. This momentary enthusiasm is the essence that breaks our fragile lives.

"Just?" he questioned her as she trailed off. "Just what, Gwen?"

She vigorously shook her head and pressed the heel of her palms into her eyes. "Just nothing," she replied as she lowered her hands. "Can you just… Help me out? Just get the glass out, I don't need any bandages."

Detective Terry Lee had heard the bad news, but not through the usual police channels where information traveled at the speed of sound. Instead, he heard the news on the news; or rather, he saw the news. He had been watching the Yankees square off against the Astros before his dull enjoyment was interrupted by the panicking yet affable newscaster Dillbert Trilby. Trilby reported live from the scene of immense chaos near Central Park where a giant monster (Immediately being dubbed as the Lizard, to no surprise) had attacked a group of innocent New Yorkers. But the icing on the cake was that the Lizard, according to witnesses, had targeted Captain George Stacy who was out with his family at the time.

"Out with his family…" Lee repeated the words to his television screen.

"Gwen?" Lee stepped around the yellowing white curtain that acted as a partition in the small room. He caught the wide eyes of young Gwen Stacy who, to his dismay, had a blood-stained bandage wrapped around the better half of her skull. She had been sitting cross-legged on the bed with her back facing the tall, white stranger he'd seen her with at the PBA charity. He's a doctor, Lee inwardly scoffed. Of course, he was a doctor.

Her eyebrows turned down at the detective. "Terry? What are you doing here?"

"Investigating a quadruple homicide," he lied. Terry had nothing to do with the investigation into what happened only an hour prior or had yet anything to do with it. Giant lizard attacks in Manhattan weren't exactly his forte.

Without raising his head to the detective, Strange commented, "I don't care who you are or what you're doing here; this is a private area and I would qualify your actions as trespassing."

"Imma cop; I have permission," which again, was a bit of a lie. Dillbert Trilby had mentioned the surviving victims of the incident were being carted off to New York-Presbyterian in East Side Manhattan, so it wasn't much of a stretch that Gwen would be there, too. On top of that, flashing your PD badge at random, confused, panicked hospital staff would get you places.

Strange moved his hands away from Gwen and finally lifted a scowl towards Terry. "I'm afraid that isn't relevant. I'm in the middle of treating a patient. Have some common decency."

"Gwen, are you alright?" ignoring the doctor, Lee was mesmerized by Gwen's bloodied and tattered appearance.

Stephen stepped out from around the bed and approached Lee. "Leave now, before I have you removed."

Terry examined the doctor noting that he was an inch shorter than himself and certainly not as wide. If the doctor wanted to pick a fight, he'd soon regret it. "I know the captain's daughter; I'm doing my duty as a fellow officer and checking in on her."

"She's in very capable hands," Strange flashed a tiny grin at the silent woman. "Likely the most capable hands she's ever been in."

Lee narrowed his gaze at Strange. Most capable hands, he thought. What was that supposed to mean? Maybe Gwen had felt the need to lie to Terry about the details of her relationship with the strange man.

"I won't ask you again," Strange's voice snapped through the air. "Leave."

"Imma cop," Lee repeated. "I'm allowed to make sure my coworker's daughter is okay."

Gwen rubbed at the side of her face, looking between the two men. "Terry, I'll be fine," she finally added.

With exaggeration, Stephen rolled his eyes at Terry. "I could have told him that considering I am the only one in this room who could possibly know that as a fact." Strange grabbed the yellowing curtain with his gloved, blood coated hand and jabbed his finger over the detective's shoulder. "Now I've already explained that I won't ask again and I'd truly hate myself if I went back on my own promise."

Lee's continuing frown of concern stayed locked on Gwen's bandaged head. He took a step back from the doctor and let out a sharp sigh, "Fine." He wasn't there to pick a fight, no matter how much of a dick this doctor was nor how much he deserved to have his teeth rattled. "I'll talk to you later," were the last words he offered Gwen before turning around.

Strange twisted his head to smile at Gwen's downturned face. "Is that your boyfriend?" he spoke playfully. "It's always loved ones who put up unnecessary fights against innocent doctors and nurses."

Bending her neck forward, Gwen replied to the doctor with a long sigh, "He's not my boyfriend. What is with people and their obsession over my relationship status?"

"Just teasing you." He stepped back behind Gwen and continued to pull shards of glass from her torn up back. For the most part, the cuts were superficial and not nearly as damaging as what happened to her face, but he noticed something else in the process. Down her spine, there were scars from various surgical incisions.

"He helps me out," Gwen admitted after the doctor removed more shards from her back. "I'd go to him as Spider-Woman for help."

"I see," Strange stopped moving. "But here he is coming to Gwen Stacy, so he knows you're Spider-Woman?"

"Yeah."

"I don't know the details of life as a super-hero, but you could assume that revealing your secret identity to an officer of the law is a no-no." Stephen reached for another shard and let it clatter to the metal tray beside him.

"It's complicated," Gwen wasn't in the mood to explain the unusual relationship she had with the detective. "And he's kinda one of the few people I trust."

"I can see that. He appears to be… Enamored by you." It was impossible to miss the pain that crossed the officer's brow the moment he laid eyes on the poor Gwen Stacy.

"I…" How was she supposed to respond to a statement like that? There had been a few moments in the past where she suspected that Lee's feelings towards her might be something more, but she knew Lee had mistakenly placed her on an unreachable pedestal. He saw pureness and kindness in her that she did not see in herself.

"You don't feel the same?" Stephen prodded further.

"I like Terry and I trust him," her head swiveled to Strange. "Is it so wrong to just see him as my friend? Why does there have to be something? Why do people always assume that there has to be some sort of romance?"

"Because it is clear that romance is on his mind."

"And you met him for what? All of five seconds?" her body followed her pivoted head as her toes touched the hospital floor.

"Its… How it seems, is all."

"Thanks," she said with her face pointed at the floor. "I appreciate your help. I do."

"I believe you," he discarded the latex gloves from his hands and lazily tossed them in the bin of trash. "I would recommend that you should rest for a few days, but I somehow doubt you'll heed my advice."

"Yeah, probably not," she nodded in agreement. "I hate to ditch our date, but…"

"I expected as much." He wasn't surprised that she eventually came up with an excuse not to go out with him. How precarious, unbalanced, and complicated the fragile creature could be. Maybe one day he'd get to her; deep down. "Don't worry, I understand."

"Raincheck, maybe?" Gwen didn't want to commit to something she'd immediately back out of. "Everything that's going on right now…"

"New York needs Spider-Woman; I'll admit that."

"That thing was going after my father. I need to find him." Her mind burned with rage at the thought.

"I noticed something… odd," Stephen carefully spoke as he watched a flood of anger fill her eyes.

"What?" Gwen briefly shook her head to dissipate the feeling. "Noticed something?"

"I noticed something odd about you, Gwen," he paused to analyze his statement. Of course, he noticed many odd things about Gwen; she was a peculiar woman after all. It seemed odd in itself to imply that he noticed something odd about her when she was the oddest person he'd ever met. "The scars on your back. The ones along your spine… I bet that was painful."

She wasn't sure what to say at that moment. Should she tell him to fuck off or maybe something a bit kinder? Maybe tell him something closer to along the lines of not wanting to talk about it at all. But she had already confessed so much to him and him so much to her. There was the possibility that she felt comfort when she brought all of her darkness out and into the open when she was with him. Stephen Strange had a veil of darkness that surrounded his being, and it felt as tangible as her own. Dark souls can easily sense the weight that other dark souls carry on their shoulders.

"Some of it was, some of it I can't really remember exactly…" her words trailed with the memories of staring endlessly at a polished, white tiled floor. "They cut us open a lot… Put stuff in us; took stuff out," she cringed with a squint at the recollection of those many surgeries. "I just lost track of everything. There was a point where I just expected it; I was prepared. When whatever they gave us wore off and the pain just came… Thinking about it makes me sick."

"I apologize," Stephen pursed his lips at her. "I shouldn't have said anything."

Gwen slowly released her weight from the bed and tried to gather her composure. "Oww," she mumbled as she reached up to her damaged face. "Everything hurts."

"I can give you something for that," Stephen spoke as he stepped over to a small cabinet mounted next to the bed. "I'm sure we can find something for you in this delightful hamlet."

"I think it had something to do with genetic mutation," Gwen continued to pursue the uncomfortable.

"Excuse me?" Stephen turned back to face her with a pill bottle in hand. "What had to do with genetic mutation?"

"What they were doing to us; the experiments." Gwen offered a brief pause, shifting her weight between her feet. "I… I think- I don't know. They were trying to turn us into something else. Something stronger than a human, I think."

Stephen's gaze shifted away from Gwen and to the worn, tile floor. He placed the small bottle on top of the bed, the thought of why he even had it leaving his mind entirely. Experiments on humans? Genetic mutation? All of it ran uncomfortably familiar to him.

"Can you tell me more?" Stephen wasn't sure how far Gwen was willing to go, but he needed to know what happened.

"A lot of it felt like the same thing over and over again. There was someone else with me, but she died." Gwen recalled the swollen, puffy face of a girl who couldn't have been older than eight at the time. Very clearly, she recollected the distinct bruises that constantly surrounded the young girl's blood-filled eyes. She had rested in what looked like a hospital bed adjacent to Gwen's. The pair were always concealed behind a ring of dark curtains; Gwen could never make out what color they actually were, not that that ever mattered. Occasionally, those dark curtains would reveal streaks of orange light that glowed behind them, but Gwen couldn't remember seeing any direct sunlight for those seven years.

"You'd mentioned her before." He could see her eyes glazing over as she stared off and up at nothing in particular. "What happened to her? How'd she die?"

"They were making us sick. Sometimes we got better, but she kept getting worse and worse…" Gwen thought back on the girl's rambling, murmuring, screams of agony and of madness. If ever Gwen did sleep, when she did, she would wake up swearing she was still there hearing that girl howl endlessly. "She would talk to me, but most of the time it didn't make a lot of sense. She would talk about animals; how they talked about animals. Saying it out loud, I don't know… It'll just sound ridiculous."

Animals. They were experimenting on humans with animals? Just as before, it all sounded strikingly familiar to Strange.

"Go ahead." He wanted her to finish her train of thought.

"She smiled at me once… She said that one day, I'd be like a bird, or a spider, or an eel. Maybe all three. I don't know if I liked hearing that…"

"You still look human to me, although maybe I can see the bird thing a bit," his attempt at levity was met with an ineffectual stare. "What was her name?"

"I don't know; I never knew. She said she would be like a fire-ant someday. Her English wasn't the greatest, to be honest. I know she spoke Mandarin, like the doctors who were there."

"You're right, this does sound ridiculous. Ridiculous, but not unheard of." He wrung his hands together and let out a prolonged sigh.

Gwen raised a brow at him and lifted her chin. "What do you mean? How is this possibly not unheard of?"

"Just look at your friend, The Lizard," he shrugged back. "If that isn't mutation, I don't know what is."

"I don't think the two are the same at all. Have you seen The Lizard? He looks like an actual lizard. I look, more or less, the same as I did before."

"Maybe you were lucky."

"Can you explain to me what you're getting at?" Gwen crossed her arms as a grimace struck the doctor's face.

"You got away; you escaped." He cupped one of his hands over her shoulder. "But what happened to the people who did this to you?"

"I… uh-" Gwen could feel heat rise to her face as it turned red. "I don't think there's… As far as I know… They're all… dead."

"Dead?" The doctor's head perked up. "How do you know this?"

"It isn't important," Gwen let out a shaky gasp. "The point is, is that I know. I know they're all gone."

"And their research?" Stephen didn't have to be telepathic to know that Gwen had no intention of revealing to him what truly happened to all of those doctors. Hopefully, they got exactly what they deserved. "What happened to all of their research?"

"I hoped it died with them… I uh, I don't actually know. I just assumed…" Her words trailed off.

"Assumed what?" He pried.

"I just assumed that it was gone because no one ever came after me or told the world about me or said anything about me or did anything about me." Gwen let all of this out in one quick breath.

"I'm not so sure about that, Gwen."

Gwen narrowed her eyes at him in suspicion. "What are you getting at? Why won't you just tell me?"

"I told you, I did some work for Oscorp. Albeit, rather briefly and for good reason." He stopped to observe Gwen's reaction, but she only provided him with a motionless and empty stare. "They were trying to splice human DNA with other non-human species. Such as, but not limited to, lizards, for one. Me telling this to you; however, could land me in prison for life… If I'm lucky."

"Did you… Did you help them make The Lizard?" She felt her chest growing tight. "Did you… Did you… Peter?"

"I had nothing to do with what happened to Peter Parker, Gwen." He wrapped his fingers around her cold hands. "I worked for them for two weeks before I realized what was going on, so I left. I save people's lives. I wasn't interested in helping anyone commit unethical and illegal acts. They were willing to let people die. I couldn't abide by that."

"But you haven't done anything?" Gwen's voice rose in pitch. "You knew they were hurting people and you did nothing about it!"

"Gwen, there was nothing I could do. They threatened me." Stephen let her go at tapped at his own chest. "They would destroy my life and take away everything I have."

"And what do you have that's so much more important than the people who died today?!" Gwen shouted directly at Stephen's face in response. "What do you have that's so much more important than what Peter had?! You even said yourself that you're an asshole and that you aren't capable of caring for anyone else. You'll lose everything you have, but people lost their lives."

"Was I supposed to go to the police with no evidence, by the way, and tell them what? Tell them that I suspected they were doing immoral, illegal, unethical research? All for what? So I could get killed and nothing would come of it?" Stephen kept his voice at an even tone in hopes of suppressing Gwen's displeasure. "There was nothing I could do."

"You can always do something!" Gwen took a step back from him. "We say there is nothing and that we had no choice just to comfort our ourselves. You always have a choice; you can always do something."

"I'm doing something now." He held his open arms out to the mess of a woman. "I'm telling you the truth. I'm telling you that Oscorp had something to do with you and something to do with The Lizard."

"I can't believe it…" Gwen dropped her shoulders. "I can't believe you didn't say something to me sooner…"

"Gwen," Stephen bridged the gap between the two of them. "I never meant to-"

But before he could finish, George Stacy barged his way through the thin, yellowed curtains. "I'm tired of waiting around and I'm tired of filling out goddamn papers," he barked at the young nurse who anxiously puttered behind him.

"I'm sorry, Doc," the young male nurse meekly spoke. "He refused to listen to me."

"That's alright," Stephen waved the nurse away.

George's round eyes widened even further when he saw Gwen. "Gwen, you're a mess. I can't- are you okay?"

Gwen let her frown fade and turned to her father. "I'll be alright."

Stephen folded his arms over and took a step back from Gwen. "Her wounds were superficial," he added. "Nothing severe enough to keep her bedridden, that's for certain."

"Gwen," George shook his head at her. "I can't believe you. I can't believe you did that. Were you trying to get yourself killed?"

Almost always, Gwen thought to herself. "I wasn't thinking; that was my problem."

"You could have been killed."

"You could have been killed," she quickly retorted.

"I'm a police officer, Gwen. It's expected of me to put my life on the line for others." He explained with a tint of pain in his voice. "It's what I do."

"It was your birthday; you were off duty."

"Gwen, you're a hundred-ten, five-foot-something, girl. What were you expecting would happen to you?"

Stephen scratched at his brow. "One-hundred-sixty-five," he murmured at no one.

Gwen scrunched her eyes to frown at Stephen; she was always listening and she could always hear everything whether or not she liked it.

"I don't know," she finally replied to her father. "Like I said, I wasn't thinking."

"Are you okay to go home?" He asked Gwen, but he was staring at the doctor.

Stephen tilted his head and gave George a small, silent nod.

"Shall we go home and get a drink?" George surrounded Gwen's shoulders in his thick arms. "I think we both deserve one."

"Aren't I an alcoholic?" Gwen grumbled underneath the large man's grasp.

"Well, we'll just have the one." He released her and kept her close all the way home.

Dim lights barely lit George Stacy's kitchen table in the darkened house. May had already gone to bed and George quietly watched Gwen drink a glass of scotch slower than he had seen anyone ever. He looked over the bandage that coated half of her face and she still wore the same blood-stained and shredded The Church band t-shirt.

Gwen caught her father glancing at the filthy shirt. "This was my favorite shirt," she smiled.

"We'll get you another one."

"Yeah, but this one was vintage." Gwen plucked at the baggy shirt and examined the stains of her own blood. "And you know, it was mom's."

"I know." George tapped the side of his glass, looking down at his own drink. "I've lost almost everything, Gwen Stacy, I don't want to lose you, too."

"I know." But there was always more to everything. If anything, she didn't want to lose him. What would Gwen have left after her father was gone? May was there, but May was May. May was Peter's aunt, she was Ben's wife. And all of them here together and broken, found each other. But regardless of her feelings towards May, Gwen's father was the final string that tied her to this world. As it stood now, it was hard enough finding anything worth fighting for. Especially now that New Yorkers on the street rioted against her. Everyone needed someone to blame for their problems and she had become their scapegoat. But what would they be without her? Who would be left to accept their rage if not the ever-present and great Spider-Woman? Who would really protect these people?

"Gwen, promise me something?" His words cut through her thoughts like an intruding knife. "Promise me you won't ever do something that stupid again, okay?"

"I promise," she responded, but obviously this was absurd. Spider-Woman was everything stupid all the time. It was stupid and even if other people had powers like her, no one should ever do half of the stupid shit she did. And now that she knew Oscorp was behind The Lizard, things were about to get a lot stupider.

"I'm gonna have to go out there and look for that thing, Gwen." The uncertainty he felt sounded through his words. "It's a manhunt now."

"Are you going now?" Gwen bolted up from out of her chair.

"I came home with you to make sure you were okay, but I have to find whatever this is, Gwen."

"He was trying to kill you!" Gwen let out a harsh ring. "If you find him or if he finds you, he's going to try to kill you again."

"I'm not going to be alone, but more importantly, I'm not going to let this maniac continue to rampage through the streets of New York."

"Do you even know where he is?" Gwen almost laughed in frustration. "You're going after a maniac, who you have no idea what he is capable of, and you don't even know where he is?"

"We'll find him where ever he is and we'll flush him out. I'm not letting this stick bastard get away with murdering my people." George stood up from his chair and showed Gwen a smile of condolence. "I know you're worried about me, but I'll be okay. This is what I do; I am a cop after all."

"I know you'll be okay. This many years later, you've always managed to come home. I know you will." And I'll make sure of it, Gwen thought to herself. Because if anyone is going to protect you from that lunatic, it'll be the Spider-Woman.


	24. Chapter 24: Tower and a Maiden

If I've learned anything, it's that being alive is not enough to get you saved from this world. If anything, being alive is the minimum effort you can put into existence. Being alive isn't enough, not when your existence has limitless potential. Pulling through, getting through to the next day, simply isn't enough anymore. It isn't enough when the rest of the world falls into pieces around you and all you're doing is watching it crack and crumble along the edges. You have to do something and not just for yourself. You have to do something for someone somewhere who isn't you. You need to try to be something for somebody and make it be more than yourself. You need to stop being so selfish and to stop whining. You need to pick yourself up, get out there and do something.

As much as Gwen Stacy wanted to smash into Oscorp and burn that rotting cesspool to the ground as it so rightfully deserved if, and only if, what Doc said was true, she simply couldn't find the time. As of three days ago, the New York PD was hyper-focused on two super-wanted individuals in particular. One of them continuing to be the still innocent Gwen Stacy a.k.a. Spider-Woman and the other being the absolutely guilty without a doubt in her mind The Lizard. Thus far, these past three days, Gwen had been trying her best to keep an eye on her father who was a prime target of The Lizard and her ever-beloved cop pal Terry Lee. Lee may not have been a target in The Lizard's line-of-sight, but he was one of the many police officers in pursuit of the fanged abomination.

Gwen was beginning to realize that there was a limit on exactly how long Spider-Woman could go without sleep. It had been more than seventy-two hours at this point and watching after her father or Terry had taken up all of this time. This in itself provided frustration because she was certain that if she broke into Oscorp and found the possibly incriminating evidence that Strange alluded to, she might have an increased chance of finding this lizard. However, that was no guarantee. As well, turning her back from her father or Lee could result in something she didn't want to think about. Problem was, there were no leads, zilch.

After The Lizard made his grand entrance in Central Park and decided to kill a handful of New Yorkers, not a single sighting had been made. There was nothing. It was as if The Lizard disappeared into thin air which led to another big question: How was he doing it? How does something that large and that dangerous appear one moment and vanish the next? Gwen had a bad feeling about the possibility that like herself, The Lizard could turn invisible. But unlike herself, The Lizard clearly had greater control over this cloaking ability. No matter, in thinking all of this, it doesn't mean it's true. Maybe The Lizard was just talented at avoiding street cameras and lights and pedestrians and witnesses of all kinds. But sooner or later, if it was George he was after, the thing was going to have to show itself in the light of day. Or the dark of night, but either way he was going to have to show up somewhere.

Sleeping half an hour here and there where she could, a week rolled by without progress. The Lizard was playing the long game; he had time to kill where she didn't. The longer this took the worse it would be on Gwen and the more exhausted she would become. Eventually, she would reach the point where she wouldn't be capable of squaring off with the gnarly menace. She still had no idea what kind of powers this thing could have and in addition to that, she constantly recalled the dream where she had a rooftop rendezvous with the scaly being. As fate would have it, eventually Gwen's dreams come true.

Gwen hadn't seen or heard from Strange in over a week, and although he did frustratingly haunt her mind from time to time, contacting him wasn't on her list of priorities. Maybe she wanted to avoid him, maybe she was mad at him, again, or maybe she was never sure what to think of the man. If only he had told her about The Lizard long ago; if only he would have said something earlier. It was impossible not to be angry at someone who kept a secret so dire and so important that people's lives literally depended on it… And yet, she understood why he never said anything about it, to begin with. If Oscorp was really up to no good, it's even a surprise they would let Strange go in the first place. Unless there was something else Stephen wasn't telling her.

It's not easy going around town dressed as the wanted criminal Spider-Woman, so she preferred to exclusively dawn her disguise after nightfall. As much as Gwen wished she could cloak herself twenty-four-seven, it was nearly impossible. Half-an-hour here and there was always doable, but as time went on and exhaustion set in, even that became more difficult. And thus, this left Gwen Stacy adorning the outfit of a normal-looking human being in baggy sweats with her bleach-blonde hair tucked up tightly underneath a baseball cap. And on this bright, shinning, late spring day, the cap offered much-needed shade from the headache-inducing big ball of burning annoyance that hung in their sky.

It was infuriating, how little cops seemed to do; how unexciting their lives were, but perhaps that was for the best given the current situation. As of now, she stood across the street from one of the hundreds of generic-nothing-particularly-special-about-them donut and coffee shops that officers stereotypically couldn't resist. Her Dad sat at the driver's seat of the white and blue police cruiser that was parked on the narrow street while his fellow officers gathered much needed unhealthy sustenance for the lot of them. He was seemingly absent-mindedly flipping through that morning's edition of The Daily Bugle (and Gwen doesn't even know why physical newspapers are still a thing, but people are weird like that) when a look of concern was plastered across his deep features. Only a few seconds later, George Stacy pulled out his phone and in another two seconds, Gwen's phone started buzzing.

Oh shit, was the first thought to cross her now panicking mind. She turned her back at the cruiser and nudged herself behind a lamppost and public garbage bin. Gwen pulled out her phone from the front pocket on her sweater and desperately hoped her father hadn't spotted her. I mean, it's not like watching her father from a distance was illegal or something. Well, unless that constitutes as stalking in which case it is most definitely illegal. She could explain that it was a coincidence and she was out for a walk and happened to pass him by; just a coincidence is all. Next time, she'll remember to wear sunglasses to complete the pedestrian disguise.

"Yeah…?" Gwen spoke as she ceased the buzzing of her phone.

"Hey, Gwen," her father softly replied. "Are you doing okay? Are you alright?"

"Oh, you know, fine." It had been well over a week since Gwen's encounter with The Lizard and not too surprisingly, her wounds had faded into lesser gashes. Still alarming, but not as shocking as before. It would have been difficult to tell that she had recently been assaulted by a giant blood-thirsty lizard man.

"Are you sure?" George slowly questioned her. "You can be honest with me; you know you can be open with me, right? I know you spent some time with him and you two must be friends…"

"Excuse me?" Gwen had no idea what her father was going off about. "What are you talking about?"

"Stephen?"

"Stephen?" Gwen repeated back.

"Did you not- have you-" He stuttered. "Have you read the paper or seen the news this morning, Gwen?"

"You know I don't care about that sort of thing…" A knot started to build in her stomach and she could feel it rising into her chest.

"Gwen, do you not know what happened to your friend, Stephen?" He waited for her response.

"I… Don't… Know…" But the dream about Stephen came back to her. Twisted metal, contorted shapes, dripping blood, sinking in the pool of vermillion. "He's dead, isn't he?"

"From what I just read, I don't think so." George shuffled through pages of the newspaper and Gwen could hear the movement over the speaker. "It says he was in a pretty bad accident. I don't know, the pictures don't look good. They said he was drinking at the time…"

"Right, of course," Gwen nodded at no one and suppressed her tears. "Okay, well, thanks for telling me…"

"Gwen, are you alright?" George's low voice was filled with concern.

"Yeah, perfect. Just peachy," she croaked out a response trying not to sound distraught.

"Gwen, it's okay to be upset. I know he's your friend-"

"He's not my friend," she interrupted him. "He's an asshole and I'm sure he deserved it."

"I know you don't mean that, Gwen."

"You're right, I didn't mean that." She pressed her free palm across her cheeks to remove whatever tears that managed to escape from the feelings she couldn't repress. "I shouldn't have said that. That was an awful thing to say."

"Maybe you should go see him," George suggested.

"Bye, dad. I'll talk to you later."

The very obviously beautiful young female doctor that met with Gwen seemed woefully unimpressed by the disheveled girl with the healing, yet unsightly, gashes across her face. Why did Gwen think this woman was so obviously beautiful? Because she was and as much as Gwen wished she didn't notice these things or compare herself to others, she couldn't help it. Anna, the lovely doctor, had thick brown locks, perfect makeup, and a jawline you could cut yourself on. God, I'm a mess, Gwen thought inwardly.

"He's doesn't want to see anyone." Anna gave the frumpy girl a flat response.

"So, he's awake?" Gwen raised a brow.

"Yes; however, he was in surgery for over eight hours and right now he is more upset than a teenage girl who didn't get a Corvette for her sweet sixteen."

"Sounds like him," Gwen shook her head knowingly. "Can you tell him it's Gwen? That Gwen wants to see him?"

"He was explicit that no one is to see him," she shrugged back. "And he is just exercising his right to do so."

"I know, but can you tell him it's Gwen?" Gwen repeated.

"I'm sorry," the doctor reached out and grabbed Gwen's shoulders, attempting to swivel the girl around to face back to the lobby. But, as expected, Gwen stood solid as a rock and as unmovable as ever.

Anna showed Gwen an exasperated scowl. "If you don't leave, I'll have you removed."

"Fine, whatever." Gwen flapped her arms. "I can't force that asshole to see anyone and you know what? This is not even my problem."

"Alright." Anna's scowl morphed into a look of pity. "How about you leave me your number and if he changes his mind, you'll be the first to know."

"If he wants me to see him, he can call me."

Two weeks; it's been two long weeks since anyone has seen The Lizard. Still, day in and day out, Gwen kept her unwavering personal escort mission when it came to her father and Lee. More so her father than Lee, but if time allowed it, she'd make sure Lee was safe, too. But this must be it, Gwen thought. Before anything else happened, she was bound to die from exhaustion and frustration. The Lizard was waiting for something to happen or maybe he was gone entirely, but that was unlikely. If anything, now was the time to strike and to stop uselessly pandering around while she lost her mind from the boredom of following even more boring cops.

She worked briefly for Oscorp and it would be ignorant to think that some of the world's most brilliant minds didn't work there because they did. Peter was one of those people and Gwen was not one of those people. But in saying this, Gwen had an advantage that most people did not; she could become invisible. She was on the edge of exhaustion, but after consuming eight bagels which rounded out to about two-thousand calories and a half-hour nap, she was mostly sure she could break into Oscorp in the brightness of the day and find whatever it is she needed to find. Maybe it was in a secret lab or hanging out in a server somewhere or who really knows, but she'd be the one to find it.

Without a doubt, Oscorp was the premier high-tech company of New York's future. Probably everyone's at that. Overwhelmingly, the public loved Oscorp and everything they did for the human race. Their focus was to excel humanity, create renewable resources, revolutionize medicine, and all of that crap. The lobby of the Oscorp building, which screamed with the ego of tech gods, opened up to a grand atrium that stretched through the towering one-hundred-eight floors. Glass displays of flashing information illuminated almost every surface you could think of. And despite all of this show, when Gwen worked here she was still crammed in a cardboard-cutout cubicle in an office full of other cardboard-cutout cubicles with other cardboard-cutout people. Peons got shafted, but the scientists, the researchers; their offices were grandiose.

Gwen was aware that Oscorp wouldn't plaster 'Secret Labs' or 'Evil Information That Can Compromise Us' on a directory, so she would have to do some detective work. All floors were restricted without a key fob and most employees only ever had access to one. Peter was working in the Computer Engineering division, but The Lizard likely had something to do with medical research. It would have been useful if Strange told her what floor he did his super-secret research on or… Strange; she didn't want to think about him right now. She warned him, told him, explained to him that this was going to happen, but she wasn't expecting him to live. He was dead in her dream or vision or whatever you want to call it. There was still the possibility that he simply hadn't died yet. If Gwen knew anything, it's that situations usually got worse before they got better.

"Miss?" A voice startled her out of her trance.

"Wha?" Gwen had been standing in the middle of the atrium next to some plants you've never seen before that resembled tiny palm trees as she blankly stared up into the glaring skylight one-hundred-eight stories above her.

"Are you alright?" A man with reddish hair and stubble glanced down at her with a tiny smirk across his mouth. His suit was impeccable; perfectly tailored to his well-built physique. He was as annoyingly generically handsome as Anna was annoyingly gorgeous. "You seem upset."

"Excuse me?" Gwen blinked a tear from her eye that she had not noticed until then. "Oh yeah, I'm fine." She pushed the water away from her face with an unsteady hand.

"Are you sure?" His expression twisted with apprehension.

Gwen noticed him examining the thick cuts along her left cheek. "Oh, don't worry about this. This is fine." She raised her hand to cover the marks.

"Do I know you?" He asked leaning in closer to inspect her features.

"I've never met you…" His closeness put her on the edge of discomfort. What was it with men and their uncanny ability to break the boundaries of a woman's personal space?

"Alright then," he pulled his head back and held out a stiff arm. "Allow me to introduce myself; I'm Harry Osborn."

Opposite from what she experienced earlier that day, Gwen felt a rock in her stomach that was threatening to drag her body to the floor. "Ha- Harry Osborn; like Norman Osborn's son?" She managed to squeeze out.

"The one and only." His grin widened as he lowered his hand back down noticing that Gwen was too stunned to reciprocate the gesture. "Yes, I am the son of Norman Osborn, founder of Oscorp."

"You know, I used to work here before I got fired," Gwen released a faint squeal of anxiety.

"Oh, that's a shame. What'd you do?" His laugh sounded warm and kind and sincere and it made Gwen feel even more awkward.

Hold it together, Gwen, she assured herself. This guy could be the most goddamn evil fucker in New York for all you know. He could be behind what happened to her all of those years ago. Although, upon immediate reflection, she realized that Harry was around the same age as Gwen; therefore, he could not have been behind what happened to her. This option; however, did not entirely eliminate the possibility that he was behind what happened to Peter or The Lizard.

"I uh, never showed up for work," she swallowed.

"Then, I think you deserved to be fired, yeah?" He laughed again.

"That's okay, I just ended up volunteering at the homeless shelter my mother-in-law runs, so…" Gwen had no idea why she was rambling at this man. This man who knew Peter… He knew Peter.

"Volunteering? That's very noble of you." He kept smiling at her. "But, that probably explains why I recognize you."

"Did you know- Were you friends with-" she stopped her own speech to nervously wring her hands.

"Peter Parker!" he almost shouted at her as he snapped his fingers. "You were Peter Parker's friend. I remember you. He showed me pictures of the two of you. He talked about you a lot. The two of you must have been very close."

"Yeah, well, he was my best friend before… Before he died…" Gwen recoiled at the thought of Peter's death.

"I'm sorry. He was a good man." The ever-wide smile faded from Harry's lips. "And he was my good friend, too."

"Yeah, I know- he talked about you." Unaware, Gwen rolled her eyes. "Highest praise I've ever heard come out of someone's mouth."

"Peter told me how brilliant you are." And just like that, the comforting smile lifted Harry's features once more.

"Not nearly as brilliant as Peter." Gwen shrugged having no better response to offer.

"No one was ever as brilliant as Peter Parker was." Again, he scrutinized Gwen's cut face with a look of deep contemplation.

Gwen furrowed her brows at him in a fit of confusion, and the deep expression left his face.

"Would you like to get a coffee with me?" He bluntly asked, without instigation.

"Um, like when?" That's not what Gwen wanted to say, but it's what she ended up saying.

"How about right now? Are you busy?"

I'm about to steal your company secrets, Gwen thought to herself. So yes, she was a bit busy.

"I don't really have the time right now…"

"That's alright, can I get your number then?" This man did not beat around the bush for one second. "Peter talked a lot about you and I feel like it would be a shame if I didn't get to know you better."

"Oh, okay then." Snap out of it, Gwen, she yelled at her inner stupidity.

With an outstretched arm, he handed her his phone. "Go ahead," he pointed at it as she took it from him. "Just put in your number and we can set something else some other time."

Gwen feigned a smile at the device and put in her actual number before handing it back to Harry.

"It was really nice meeting you, Gwen." He tapped at the screen on his phone. "I'll text you soon, okay?"

"Yeah, sure," she gave her final reply with a look of confusion painted on her scarred face. "That was one-hundred-percent weird." She began wandering off in the direction exactly opposite of Harry.

"That was one hell of a detour," Gwen sighed at herself. There was no way to tell who Harry Osborn truly was until she got to the bottom of The Lizard. Not meaning the bottom of him as person or creature or whatever, but as in the bottom of this case. If this is a case; that really wasn't part of the point, though.

With enough eavesdropping, cloaking, leaping from floor to floor through the open atrium, Gwen was able to narrow down the exact floors the medical labs were on. Floors fifty-eight through seventy-two housed some of the world's most advanced medical research labs, but what Gwen found more informative than anything, was that no one ever mentioned floor sixty-four. Could it be a server room? Who knows; there was no mentioning of such by anyone thus far. More likely, these could be personal labs where Norman Osborn (and probably his son, too) performed their own unsanctioned research. Again, this all did come down to one little factoid. Was Doc telling the truth about what he saw during his brief stint with Oscorp?

Breaking into the labs on the sixty-fourth floor wasn't a difficult feat. All of the floors had balconies that opened up into the vast atrium, so access wasn't a problem. There was no way to know what was in the labs themselves for they were all hidden behind grey tinted glass. Irritatingly enough, there were keypads on every single door on that floor that kept outsiders exactly that. You'd think that Gwen Stacy, the tech-savvy individual she was, would be able to hack a silly little keypad. And this was exactly her intention until exasperation opened up a new way for her to freely access whatever she needed.

"I hate this," Gwen had been staring at the inner workings of one of the keypads after she had pried the face of it off. "I should have brought a computer or something. You know, a way to hack this like a normal person."

Suddenly, a spark of electricity shorted out the pad and the door silently slid open.

"Okaaaaay," Gwen narrowed her eyes at the open door. "That was so convenient." Gwen stared down at her gloved fingers. "I hope you can do that again." But Gwen would soon come to realize there wouldn't be a point.

The lab was shrouded in darkness besides the occasional blinking lights from a sleeping computer or terminal. It reeked of bleach or ammonia or some other pungent cleaning chemical. Gwen could feel warm humidity coating her face which could not have been good for any of the computers in that room, but for all Gwen knew Oscorp invented waterproof PCs or something crazy like that. Anything was within the realm of possibilities when it came to Oscorp, including but not limited to genetic mutation and splicing human DNA.

Gwen quickly found a terminal and started randomly slapping away at the keyboard. Not very hackerish, but her only intention was to wake the computer up. There was a chance that activity on these computers was monitored on a regular basis, so the quicker the better!

There were no locks on the terminals and access to the information they stored was given freely. "Wow, security," Gwen commented to herself. Oscorp hadn't imagined a scenario where someone unwanted had access to that floor and the doors and then the terminals. "Security starts at both back and front end, you losers," Gwen smirked at no one.

Despite the information overload, it wasn't long before Gwen found what she was seeking. There were files on Peter; a lot of them. They were reports of daily medical diagnostics that were run on him; blood-tests, tissue-samples, the whole nine yards. But it wasn't just Peter Parker who had test being done on him; another name consistently arose through her browsing of the multiple files. The name was Doctor Curt Connors. According to what Gwen found, he had been performing medical research at Oscorp for the past twenty years.

"I'll have to take this to go," Gwen removed a thumb drive from the front pocket on her sweat pants and inserted it into the terminal.


	25. Chapter 25: Life Beyond the Minimum

When we look at the night sky, we barely see anything anymore. We can recall from when we were younger, that we could see a countless number of stars floating through the night. And although we know they are ever-present, to us it feels like they've all died. Those ethereal pinpricks breathed life eternal into our realm, but they're gone now. What they left behind was a choked, rotting piece of coal drifting helplessly through space. We've spent decades watching them fade with little motivation to change any of it. Our world is drowning in people who are bent on its destruction, and we can't seem to do a single goddamn thing about it.

Gamma radiation; have you ever heard of it? A lot of different mechanisms in the Universe can produce gamma radiation, from cosmic rays to mankind's favorite example: nuclear fission. The extreme dangers of gamma radiation are probably known by most; no one wants to get hit by a nuclear explosion or be within eight kilometers of one. In case you weren't already aware, gamma radiation can penetrate just about anything which is what allows it to be undeniably deadly. Gamma radiation can destroy your cells or give you cancer, but you know what else? Gamma rays can mutate your genes.

Doctor Curt Connors wasn't using gamma radiation to achieve his lifelong dream of prolonged existence. Instead, Connors was splicing human DNA with other types of non-human creatures. He wanted to take the best survival traits from animals in the wild world and integrate these features into human beings. Connors had limited success, and what success he did have was in creating The Lizard. However, even Connors saw this as a failure. The point wasn't to turn humans into monsters, it was to make humans better. And in all his failures, Connors refused to use gamma radiation on himself or his fellow test subject Peter Parker. The reason? It was off the charts ludicrously dangerous.

There was once an unethical research lab hidden away in Pachaug State Forest in Connecticut. In this lab, they spliced human DNA with non-human DNA, similar to what Connors was doing, but time and time again they had little success. The mutations were too severe, too noticeable; they were essentially turning humans into uncontrollable beasts. And this was the case until they started using gamma radiation along with their gene splicing. Through the manipulation of gamma rays, the researchers and doctors were able to control the developmental process of the mutations. That is when their test subjects didn't die from exposure to said radiation.

This is how Spider-Woman came into existence; through the magic of gamma radiation. Gwen had known that she was exposed to some manner of radiation during her time at the research lab in Pachaug Forest. The young girl she was with, Fire-Ant, mentioned something about radiation through cries and screams of horror on an exceptionally terrible night. If it was even night; Gwen could never tell. Gwen had no idea how many people were tortured at that facility until she got a hold on Doctor Connors files.

Connors had detailed reports on everything that went on in that facility. In total, the research lab in Pachaug Forest had run experiments on seventy-seven individuals including Gwen. To Gwen's benefit; however, these people were never referred to by any given name, just a number. Recognizing a picture of her thirteen-year-old self, Gwen discovered that she was subject nineteen. As well, she found her old bunkmate Fire-Ant, who was referred to as subject twenty. There were fifty-eight people after Gwen and they were all reported as deceased before the scientists of Pachaug Forest died in a freak accident. But Gwen knew no freak accident had transpired. Gwen knew exactly what happened to the Pachaug Research Lab and everyone in it. In fact, Gwen had personally made sure that no one ever left the Pachaug research lab again.

Curt Connors had been doing genetic research for the better part of twenty years, but it seemed he'd only made significant breakthroughs in the past couple of years. These breakthroughs came to him after he managed to obtain the research files from the Pachaug Forest lab. That's when everything became a whole lot stickier and Gwen realized she should probably share all of this fascinating information with somebody.

Stephen wasn't answering Gwen's calls and she didn't know what to say in a message, so she never left one. It occurred to Gwen that there was a possibility Stephen Strange's accident was in fact not an accident at all and not a coincidence. Last time they spoke, he made it clear that he had told Gwen something he never should have. This begged the question, how could anyone have known he spoke to her? Were they listening? Were they always listening? And if so, how long had they been listening for? So, it also occurred to her, maybe staying away from Strange was the right thing to do. Or perhaps she was imagining all of this and Strange really did drink himself into that car crash. The only way to know for sure would be to talk to him, but you can't talk to someone who isn't willing to talk at all.

Not knowing if she would ever hear back from Stephen Strange, Gwen did what all good super-heroes should do. And that was to pay your local cop pal a visit.

"I haven't heard from you in over two weeks and the next thing I know, you're breaking into my apartment, again." Lee blinked his heavy and groggy eyelids at the masked woman who peered down from above his couch.

"Yeah, well, I've been a bit busy."

"Haven't we all?" Lee rubbed at his face and eyes while twisting his body into an upright position.

"You're gonna wanna see all of this." Gwen held a stack of papers in her white-gloved hand. "This is gonna make your fucking day."

Terry took a deep sniffle and scratched at the tip of his nose before glancing down at his watch. He squinted carefully at his analog watch trying to concentrate on the tiny hands. The clock read five-twenty.

"I'm going back out, on the street, in search of that lunatic lizard in forty minutes." He focused on the glowing halo that surrounded Gwen's figure. "And I wasn't done napping, so you got ten minutes."

"Why so grouchy?" Gwen faked a whine.

"I know you have your own shit to deal with, Gwen, but in case you haven't noticed, the PD is a bit fucking busy at the moment." His words snapped at her. "I don't have time to entertain the goddamn Spider-Woman."

Gwen's eyes widened and her jaw gaped. "Uh… Okay… Was it something I said?"

"Two weeks ago, you were almost killed. You were almost killed, Gwen," His words crashed down on her. "You were almost killed and you couldn't be bothered to call me, to say you were okay, to say anything."

Luckily, Lee was unable to see Gwen's flustered expression that hid behind her mask. "You came and saw me at the hospital. I was fine then and I'm still fine now."

"Captain Stacy told me what happened." Lee stood up to berate her. "A giant lizard crashed you through a window, landed on you, and slashed your face open. You could have been killed, Gwen."

"I'm pretty durable, in case you forgot," she replied with patience. No point in trying to make a bad situation worse unless you were a masochist, that is. "Lizard boy is gonna have to hit me a lot harder than that if he wants to take me on toe-to-toe."

"That is exactly what you shouldn't do!" Lee jabbed a finger in her direction. "This thing is a maniac; it's a monster and a murderer. Gwen, half of the PD is out there looking for that thing. You're either gonna get yourself killed or arrested. And… And I don't wanna see that happen."

"You can't protect me from The Lizard," Gwen's shoulders relaxed. "Bullets don't seem to do shit to this guy, if anything it just pisses him off. When they find him, if they find him, he's going to do some damage and people are going to get hurt."

"S.W.A.T. is getting involved; they carry electric sticks, shotguns, they wear riot gear. I don't even think you could take on a group of those assholes."

Gwen thought back on her accidental killing of the officer who stunned her during Alistair's trap. "I'm not worried."

"You should be," Lee's voice dropped. "Those guys aren't gonna play nice. If they get you, if The Lizard gets you; what's going to happen then?"

"Honestly I'm hoping to avoid all of that." Gwen lifted her open palms in a shrug.

"Nothing has changed, Gwen." Terry roamed to the side of the couch where he picked up a wrinkled, white button-up shirt. "While you've been doing whatever you've been doing, crime rates, murder; it's all skyrocketed in the past two weeks. And you can bet your sorry ass Kingpin has a lot more to do with all that's going bad around here."

"This is why I came to you." She dramatically dropped the stack of papers on Terry's cheap Ikea coffee table. "I found some pretty damn incriminating evidence about our lovely head honcho."

"What's this?" Lee glared at the stack of papers and slowly lifted them from the table.

Gwen let out a quick cough to clear her throat. "Doctor Curt Connors is a medical researcher who works for Oscorp and is performing unethical, illegal experiments on human beings. One of those individuals was Peter Parker and another, well, is himself. His experiments are based on illegal research which destroyed the lives of seventy-seven people resulting in the deaths of seventy-six of those people. And who did Connors get this research from? Wilson Fisk. And who is sponsoring Connors research at Oscorp? Wilson Fisk."

"Where'd you get this?" Lee asked as he flipped through pages of the document.

"I stole it," Gwen flapped her hands. "Obviously. And I didn't steal physical files. I printed them off for dramatic effect."

"You stole this?" He raised his brows at her. "This would never be admissible in a court of law, Gwen."

"Fine, okay, whatever. But maybe we can threaten him or something?" Gwen knew the papers weren't going to fly, but they had to mean something.

"You said seventy-six people died from these experiments. So, who's the person that's still alive?" Lee flipped through the papers again. "Why haven't they come forward about this? Where are they?"

"Uh…" Gwen licked her lips and crossed her arms with a weak sigh. "It's me; I'm the last person."

"You're serious?" Lee scowled at one of the pages. "Subject thirty-five was terminated today," he read off the page. "Initial results seemed positive, but unfortunately his body could not withstand the long-term gamma-ray exposure and his body became cancerous. We monitored his condition for seventy-two hours, but when it became obvious no improvements in his condition were being made... We had to destroy him." Lee paused to gape at Gwen. "Gwen… What were they doing to you?"

"Some fucked up shit," she reached over and yanked the stack of papers from his grasp. "Wilson Fisk had all of this; he gave it to Connors. You can probably make some leaps of judgment from there."

"That's great, but I don't know what you want me to do with any of this. Threatening Kingpin is not a plan, it's suicide and I can't show this to anyone."

"Maybe I could find Connors," Gwen suggested. "There's no information about his home address or family or anything like that."

"This Connors guy," Lee gestured at the papers. "You said he was doing experiments on Peter Parker and himself. Are we talking about The Lizard here?"

"I see why you're the detective."

"This is no joke, Gwen." Lee pulled on his crumpled dress shirt and started buttoning it up. "If Connors is The Lizard, you can't go after him." Lee then turned to grab his pistol from the side table next to the door.

"It's a serum," Gwen spoke up. "Remember? Like the unidentified poison you found in Peter's blood. Its effects are temporary. He isn't always The Lizard; sometimes he's just a man. And this would explain his disappearing act."

"The Lizard was targeting your dad, what does scientist Curt Connors care about your dad for?"

"Maybe Curt Connors doesn't, but the Kingpin does." Sometimes even Gwen was impressed by her own sleuthing capabilities.

"If Wilson Fisk is funding Connors research, what is Wilson Fisk getting in return?" Lee asked rhetorically.

"So, are you gonna help me? With Curt?"

"I'll see what I can do," Lee hesitated to grab the knob on his apartment entrance. "Right now, everything is a bit crazy. It might take a while before I can discretely get this guy's info."

"The sooner the better, but I'll take what help I can get." Gwen started back toward Lee's tiny living room window.

"Gwen," Lee turned to away from the door to face her. "I'm sorry about what happened to your friend."

"Strange," Gwen released a short breath. "We all make mistakes."

"It seems like he got it pretty bad, from what I heard."

"Turns out I'm not interested in talking about it," she quickly brushed him off. "But I appreciate the concern."

The waiting game was the worst game if you didn't already know Gwen's feelings about it by now. Waiting was always filled with a sense of dread and always followed by the unspeakable or something else dire. Night had fallen, and the muggy warmth of summer had begun stretching its fingertips into the spring evenings. Gwen never knew a day of silence in New York, not even at night. No matter where you went, the streets were filled with the constant vibration of neon signs, jumbo LEDs, and undying traffic. This was in addition to the endless moaning and yapping of the many New York residents.

Gwen was slouching on a fire-escape roughly concealed behind an awning that draped above a hole-in-the-wall Indian restaurant with smells that taunted her stomach into making beastly howls. In retrospect, it wasn't a convenient place to hide, but it was out of sight from her father's police cruiser. This time, they were grabbing dinner at a different diner than before. Oh yippee, Gwen cheered in her mind; something different for once.

Two of the officers, not including her father, stepped out of the vehicle and exchanged a glance with a short nod. Was that normal; was that some sort of officer, policey, sign thingy that Gwen was unaware of? It was odd that the pair decided against entering the diner but instead headed for a confined alley on its south-facing side. Was that also normal, Gwen wondered? And it most assuredly was not because only a few seconds later her father exited the cruiser literally scratching his head.

"Up to no good?" Gwen unfurled from her crouching position to look over the awning. They were absolutely going down the dark, narrow, and probably scary as most alleys in New York were, alley. Her father, still showing confusion, trotted after the two officers. Gwen propelled herself off of the escape and landed on the diner's roof to get a better view of the straying police.

"Hey!" her dad yelled after them. "Hey! What's going on?" But despite his shouts, the two fellow officers continued to wander into the darkness. The claustrophobic alley led to nothing but a flat brick wall that offered no means of escape. The whole scene stunk of a trap.

Gwen could feel a lump in her throat as her heart began pounding in her chest. "What is this?" she whispered at herself.

The two men finally came to a halt at the dead end and turned to face George. "Captain," one of them spoke.

In the same instance, from the shadows that cascaded down the tight walls, a seven-foot-long creature slithered to the ground. As it stood up, a vicious grin of wet teeth grew across the monster's face.

"No- Connors?" Gwen could have sworn her heart exploded that very second.

George Stacy was a man of composure and not easily driven into shock. He knew something was wrong the moment they stepped into that alley, but only now had everything become clear. Officers Falk and Marino had made no secrets in their personal thoughts about Hydra. Both of them were proud supporters of the President and even prouder supporters of Hydra and all they've done. But George had never doubted the two's loyalty as police officers of the NYPD. Any other day of the week, if you would have asked George, he would have told you that both Falk and Marino were fine officers and fine men; they were good men, or so he had always thought.

A hiss came from The Lizard's mouth, "Captain."

Gwen dropped down from the edge of the diner's roof, blocking Connors' line of sight on her father.

The two officers unholstered their pistols and pointed them at Spider-Woman. If they were going to fire at this range, one of two things would happen. They were either going to hit Spider-Woman or if she moved out of the way, they were going to hit her father.

"Connors!" Gwen yelled as she held her arms out and took a step back closer to George.

The Lizard snarled at her, "What?!"

Both Falk and Marino tightened their grips on their weapons and glanced over at The Lizard. "Get it over with," Falk spoke to The Lizard trying to hide his nervousness.

George stepped out from behind Spider-Woman. "This isn't going to end well, for anyone." He didn't have any illusions about how this situation was going to play out.

"Put the weapons down, boys-" However, before Gwen could finish, Marino started recklessly unloading his clip in her direction. He had been waiting for Captain Stacy to move out of harm's way.

Not wanting to be left out, Falk also started shooting at the friendly spider. Gwen ricocheted between the alleyway's walls and hopped back on the diner's roof for some much-needed cover.

At this point, Captain Stacy managed to draw his own pistol, but it made little difference in the end. Only a few feet away, The Lizard sprinted up to George and wrapped its scaly, clawed fingers around the man's throat. With a long exhale, Gwen peered over the ledge of the diner to watch her father get throttled by The Lizard. She had a split second to panic before a well-aimed bullet cut clean through her right shoulder.

Gwen flipped on to her back and continued to use the diner rooftop as cover. She overheard a gargling yelp as every muscle in her body tensed up. Being shot to death; why did it matter anymore? She flung herself over the roof with one hand, ensuring her foot had a bead on Falk's easily destructible head. More shots were fired as her body raced to the ground. Two bullets managed to nick her, but their effects were inconsequential. Her outstretched foot made contact with Falk's chin which instantly knocked him to the ground. Insistent on stopping Spider-Woman, Marino let off an additional shot despite his comrade's unconscious condition. This shot lodged itself straight into Gwen's right forearm, but it did not shake her steady rage. She launched a string of webbing at Marino's face and tugged him down to the cement in one fluid motion.

Held in The Lizard's behemoth talons was the limp body of Captain George Stacy. Paralyzed by shock, Gwen watched The Lizard's crooked grin grow wider as he released the Captain's body. George stiffly tumbled to the ground in silence. Tumbling over herself in a hurry, Gwen fell on her knees next to her father's body. Her vision became blurred with tears and when she gazed up to scream at Connors, he had already disappeared.

George Stacy showed zero signs of life. His spine had been broken and his neck had been crushed; there was no chance for resuscitation.

"It's over," Falk had found the strength to raise his broken face from the ground and threaten the Spider-Woman by pushing the muzzle of his pistol into the back of her skull. "You're under arrest for the murder of Captain Stacy."

"Just shoot me," she murmured in response.

"I'm afraid Kingpin wants you alive," he spoke as he shoved the gun forward causing Gwen's head to bend forward.

Slowly, Gwen turned her head so she could meet Falk's eyes. "I'm afraid I don't care what Kingpin thinks."

Marino, who had also managed to pick himself back up, approached the two while carrying a stun baton in one hand.

Seeing this, Gwen warned them, "That didn't end so well last time, I don't think it's going to end well this time." She was looking forward to being hit with that baton.

"Pipe it," Marino snarked as he wound up before smacking Gwen across the face.

Startled awake by sirens getting closer, Gwen jumped up from the ground to observe her surroundings. Before she regained full awareness, her recollection of the recent events felt like a dream; she hoped it was a dream. Time and time again, nightmares would haunt her, horrific visions filled her mind, and the dreadful came true. In that moment, everything became surreal. What had transpired; there was no way it could be true, could it?

Back here, in this world, in this reality, awake from the dreams, nothing ever ended like a fairytale. With the stench of atmosphere still lingering in the air, Gwen noticed that Falk and Marino were dead. She was right; it didn't end well. If a shred of what was left in her cared for the world, she may have felt guilt over accidentally killing them. But there wasn't a shred of anything left in her. It was true; her father was dead. There was no avoiding it or ignoring it or missing it. Sprawled in the alleyway in front of her, she could see him and she felt nothing inside of him. No heartbeat, no breath, no synapses still firing away. There was nothing.

George Stacy never found out that Spider-Woman was in truth, his own daughter. Stacy died with low regard for the masked vigilante and few of his last thoughts were about what the killer spider was doing and why she was attempting to help him. There was always too much left to say and too much left to do. But life had always been this way because it was kinda funny like that. There were a thousand last words he wanted to give his wife and his son, but instead, he had said the mundane things we all say. Have a nice weekend and I'll see you guys when you get back, were his final words to his wife and son. They weren't the last words he spoke to Gwen though. No, his last words to her were: Maybe you should go see him. They were undramatic and inconsequential, but they reminded George of how much pain she must have been in. When the world takes, it takes and takes and takes again. It might even seem like the Universe isn't the type of place to give back.

"Don't give up, Gwen," these were George Stacy's final words. Because even when the world seems to be collapsing in on itself, there is always hope for something better. There is always hope that the sun will rise again, the clouds will part, and your life will get better. The trick is to keep going no matter what, no matter how difficult it may seem. If you don't try, nothing will get better; the world won't get better. People still need to try.

Unfortunately, nobody heard George's final words. Not even Spider-Woman, the one person in the Universe who could have used them the most.


	26. Chapter 26: You're a World Away

It feels like you're a world away and no one can get to you. You can tear every second of a moment into infinitesimally insignificant bits, but you can't find the instant where it all went wrong. You couldn't be there even when you tried. It's always been easier to hold on to the past then to let it go. Having to move on takes a considerable amount of will that most of us don't have. You have to do what's right for yourself and hanging on to strands of what once was is not the answer. Please, for the sake of yourself, just let everything go.

When Gwen returned home the evening her father was murdered, she crawled through her bedroom window, slunk across the floor, and wrapped herself into a ball in the corner of the room. Droplets of blood fell from her superficial wounds, but everything seemed superficial now; meaningless. She fought against every muscle in her body to control the weeping, but no matter how hard she tried, tears kept sweeping across her cheeks. A sharp, burning sensation drilled into the side of her temples as a headache started to build. She couldn't imagine a worse time than now to experience one of her sickening apparitions.

She was still on that rooftop surrounded by an abyss of rain clouds. The Lizard had disappeared long ago and she could feel herself fading through the loss of blood. Even now, her stomach was torn open displaying a river of glistening blood. Was this her death? Was she going to die here? If only the world was as simple as she wanted it to be, perhaps she could have rested in peace.

From the thin air around her, a dim figure appeared before her. Her suddenly blurred vision made it impossible for her to discern anything beyond the lengthy red cloak that draped around the character.

"Gwen?" someone called out her name in both realms.

"Wha…?" she struggled to lift her head from the floor.

"Gwen?" the voice repeated.

"What?" she choked on her dry throat but managed to push her torso upright.

"Gwen…" it was May, and her voice sounded broken. "Are you okay?"

"What's going on?" Rubbing at her sore eyes, for a single moment, Gwen had forgotten everything.

May pulled the hood back on Gwen's disguise and removed the girl's mask. "You're bleeding," May stared at the hole that went through Gwen's shoulder.

"I know." Gwen let her gaze drift to the open window. "It doesn't matter, does it? He's dead, isn't he?"

"It wasn't your fault, Gwen," May spoke in a hushed tone in an attempt to soothe Gwen.

"Let me guess," Gwen felt an uncomfortable crack in her neck as she began standing. "They're blaming Spider-Woman again?"

May's lip started quivering as she rose to her feet with her daughter. "I know it wasn't you," May strained to push the words from her mouth.

Gwen, in a state of lethargy, wrapped her arms around May's narrow frame. "I fucked up," she whispered. "I- I couldn't save him. It was… I let him die."

"You didn't." May did not return Gwen's hug, instead, her eyes drowned in a pool of tears. "I don't know what happened, but I know you didn't kill your father."

"The Lizard," Gwen felt a hint of rage at the mention of his name. "He killed my father."

"We should get you cleaned up." May pulled away from Gwen's grasp and gave up an injured smile.

May held onto Gwen for support as they made their way to the bathroom, but Gwen knew it was only because May wasn't capable of letting go. The two made their way to the bathtub where May eventually released her grip so the girl could sit down on the tub's edge. Gwen solemnly watched her step-mother riffle underneath the bathroom sink and remove the EMS kit hidden in the corner of the cupboard. Supplies in the kit were running low from the recent overuse. They were expensive, too, Gwen thought to herself. On average they would put Gwen two-hundred or more dollars out of pocket for a decent one.

Gwen huffed out a small smirk.

"What is it?" May made her way back to the tub and kneeled on the floor next to Gwen.

"Nothing," Gwen gave a week shrug. "Just thinking about stupid shit."

May scanned Gwen's body spotting the myriad of gunshot wounds. Most of the bullets that were fired at Gwen had only grazed her, but May cringed at the one that had pierced her forearm and the other that had gone cleanly through her shoulder. Despite the painful appearance of these wounds, Gwen gave no indication that she was in physical discomfort. To Gwen, these were minor inconveniences compared to what happened to her father. Most of what you could imagine is a minor inconvenience when you compared it to death.

"Did you see him?" Gwen asked flatly as May got up to wet a cloth in the sink.

"I didn't need to." May tried to contain her frown. "I've seen enough dead people for a lifetime, I'll tell you."

"I wish I hadn't seen him." Gwen's face burned with hot tears. "There was nothing left in him; everything was gone. There wasn't a piece of him in there."

May squeezed the damp cloth as hard as she could until she felt her own fingernails dig into the palms of her hands. "I didn't think that this would happen. Being an officer is a dangerous job, but my husband… And Peter… They were already taken from me. I didn't think God could punish me anymore."

"Nobody is punishing you, May," Gwen responded.

"But it feels that way, doesn't it?" May stopped strangling the cloth and turned to Gwen. "It's not how it works, I get it. But that's not how it feels."

"The grand, stupid motivation of most people," Gwen scoffed. "How you feel; it's how you feel. Fuck, people need to get over it."

"What else is there?" May frowned. "How we feel; it's who we are. It's the most important thing there is."

"That's bullshit," Gwen bolted up from the tub to yell at May. "I'm fucking tired of feeling the way I do all the time! I'm tired of losing everyone all the time! I'm tired of being this- of being this fucking monster!" With a closed fist, Gwen struck the mirror above the sink causing a spiderweb crack to spread through it. "I'm tired of being Spider-Woman," she let out with a final sigh.

The violent act caused May to flinch in response, but she relaxed before continuing to speak, "I will always be proud of what you've done. The people that you've saved and protected; everything you've done as Spider-Woman. You can't forget that people still need her."

"What if I don't need her?" Gwen slowly sat back down on the tub's edge. "People hate me and despise me. These people don't want me and they don't deserve me."

"No one can force you to be Spider-Woman." May crouched next to Gwen and started patting her open wounds with the damp cloth. "And no one could blame you for not wanting to be her anymore… But you became Spider-Woman in the first place for a reason."

"I did it for Peter." Gwen placed a hand over May's. "He said that I was blessed and I should do something good with that. I never wanted to be Spider-Woman."

"What do you think Peter would say?" May continued to gently pat the girl's shoulder wound.

"Something altruistic, probably." Gwen lowered her chin. "I don't want to give up, but it feels like there isn't a point anymore."

"It's your choice."

In books, in movies, in TV, in anything cliché you can think of, funerals are typically covered in the darkness of storm clouds and it may or may not be raining, but probably was. However, this was not the case at George Stacy's funeral. The sun was beaming down on the crowd of black-clad mourners and they could feel the heat of the summer penetrating their clothing. There wasn't a lone cloud in the sky and the endless singing of delighted birds could be heard from everywhere in New York.

Gwen didn't bother to get dressed up like the rest of the folk at the funeral. No, instead she wore a navy-blue pullover that was two times too big for her and a pair of grey leggings accompanied by worn, filthy sneakers. It was difficult enough for her to give a shit and go to a stupid fucking funeral let alone get dressed up for it. What did it matter to her? The man was dead and whatever it is that they were burying that day was not her father. But people's sentiments over materialistic bullshit always got the better of them.

Terry Lee, among many other officers of the NYPD, attended George Stacy's funeral that morning. The last time he had spoken to Gwen Stacy was on the night of her father's death. After reading further into the reports from Pachuag Research Lab, it stung Lee even more knowing the amount of suffering Gwen had already gone through. It was difficult to fathom God punishing someone as much as he had punished Gwen. But that wasn't really how God worked, was it? Her Spider-Woman powers were a blessing for sure; although, it was impossible to say if Gwen Stacy thought the suffering was worth it.

Lee was standing next to Gwen when he attempted to console her. With the best intentions at heart, he carefully wrapped his one arm around the young girl's shoulder as the priest offered a few words above the grave.

Gwen's head snapped in Lee's direction with a wicked scowl. "Don't touch me," she growled in a low tone.

Hurt by her reaction, Lee removed his arm in response. "Sorry," he whispered at her, but Gwen couldn't have been bothered to hear the detective.

Eventually, the service came to a close, and all of the parties slowly departed. They were all headed to the reception that was being held at the house that was no longer George Stacy's. After the crowd had parted, Lee noticed Gwen was still standing in the exact same spot with the exact same dour expression painted across her tired features.

"Are you coming?" Lee asked.

"No," Gwen replied without turning her head to him. "I think I've had enough two-faced assholes for one day."

"But it's at your house." Lee shuffled closer to her. "You can't avoid your own home all day."

"I have and I will." She kept her sight locked on her father's grave.

"I'm sorry about-"

Before Lee could finish, Gwen's voice cracked at him. "-I don't wanna hear it! I've heard enough sorries for a lifetime. Especially from the fucking police."

"I know," Lee sighed letting his sullen eyes drop to the ground.

"Those cops," Gwen spat while gritting her teeth, pointing in the direction of the departing vehicles. "They're all crooked fucking bastards. Police officers led my father into a trap where The Lizard killed him and where they blamed me."

"Did you kill those two officers?" Lee had to ask.

"What the fuck?!" her voice cracked again. "Lee, those two officers were responsible for my father's death. All you fucking cops are so crooked and fucked up!"

"That ain't true," Lee refused to raise his voice at the grieving woman. "You know that not all cops are like those assholes. Your dad wasn't like them. So, I'm gonna ask again, did you kill those two officers?"

"Yes, I fucking killed them," Gwen shouted directly in Lee's face. "And they fucking deserved it!"

"I thought you weren't a murderer?" Lee could feel the heat of anger move into his cheeks. "I thought you were better than that."

"I thought the NYPD was supposed to be better than that!" Gwen's shouts were starting to strain her voice. "Police are supposed to protect us. What the fuck happened? How did it get to this?"

"Bad people come in all shapes and sizes; you know that." Realizing Gwen's frustration, Lee's budding anger morphed into sorrow. She was right; what happened to New York? Everyday things got worse and worse and who was he to place the responsibility of making the world a better place on the shoulders of one person?

"Nothing ever gets better," Gwen's tone flattened out. "I don't know why I try anymore."

"Maybe it's time to give Spider-Woman up," Lee admitted. In truth, Lee knew that New York needed a defender more than ever, but the idea of Gwen going after The Lizard on her own brought him more nightmares. He was certain that The Lizard would be the death of her.

"I still need to find Connors." Gwen wasn't about to let that killer get away with what he'd done.

"I don't think that's a good idea. Kingpin has it out for you and we know The Lizard is working for him," Lee reminded her. "You can't take them all on by yourself."

"Kingpin doesn't want me dead," Gwen added. "Those two officers wanted to capture me alive."

"Even more reason not to go after him." Lee didn't want to imagine what Kingpin had planned for her. Connors had become a tool for Kingpin's destruction; did he think he could do the same to Gwen Stacy?

"I thought you were going to help me?" A hint of frustration came through in her tone. "You're the one who said things are getting worse because of Kingpin. We need to stop him."

"That was before he killed your father." Lee stared upward and squinted at the blinding sun. "You're too emotional, Gwen. You're going to turn this into a revenge mission."

"And what's wrong with that?" Her annoyance at his backpedaling was evident.

"Because I'm afraid you're gonna hurt someone… Or even worse, get yourself hurt." Lee knew he would be lying to himself if he didn't admit his personal feelings towards the situation. Gwen Stacy had lost nearly everything, but more importantly, he didn't want to lose her.

"None of that matters," Gwen almost whined at the detective. "He deserves to suffer for what he's done."

"Who?" Lee asked. "Kingpin or The Lizard? And what's your plan if you do manage to find Connors?"

"My best friend and my father are dead because of Connors!" she cried at him. "He deserves to be punished!"

"In the court of law, as it should be." Lee could feel his heartbreaking at the sound of her grief. "Killing him isn't the answer."

"Are you going to help me or not?" Hot tears came from her red eyes. "I thought you were going to help me?"

"Fine." As much as Lee didn't want to, he also owed Spider-Woman a whole lot. All of New York owed her a whole lot, not that they ever cared about what she had to sacrifice to protect them.

"I've lost so much," tears continued to roll down her face. "I just want this one thing."

"You have to make me a promise." No matter what Lee owed her or what she deserved, he still needed to protect her. "You can't kill Connors. Question him, fine, but don't throw your life away for that asshole."

"I promise." But her words meant nothing to either of them.

When it rains, it pours, even on a sun-filled Saturday. Detective Terry Lee wasn't sure that giving Gwen Stacy any information on Connors was a good idea, but the world wouldn't stop for his personal feelings. Or it shouldn't have to. However, this was the tip of the iceberg and a large problem presented itself to the unfortunate detective. Detective Terry Lee had been suspended from duty, indefinitely.

Lee reported for duty that afternoon not expecting anything new, but he left ten minutes later not expecting to serve the NYPD again. The Miller Twins, those long-forgotten boys who had murdered two innocent girls, suddenly, for no reason, offered the NYPD some privileged intel that they had kept secret for several months. Why hadn't they mentioned it until now; who knows? But it was enough to get Lee thrown out of a job he'd spent the entire thirty-two years of his life working toward. Those thirty-two years he was hoping to be half the man his father was.

The long-forgotten boys told the NYPD that on the night of their capture, Spider-Woman had clearly been conspiring with the detective. The boys described the conversation that Lee had with the Spider-Woman and that it was obvious the two had known each other for a while. Again, the question was why did the boys hold onto this information as long as they did? In the end, it didn't matter. Gwen Stacy was on her own now.

"What, wha- why?" this was Gwen's response after Lee had called her to inform her about the incident. After he spoke to her at the funeral, Gwen took the rest of the day to walk back home in hopes the reception was over by the time she returned. And when she did make it home, the place was empty minus May who was passed out on the living room sofa from wine and endless nights of crying.

"You need to stay away from me," Lee felt a stab in his heart as he spoke these words to her. But what were his other options? If he continued to communicate or help Gwen Stacy, those who were keeping a close eye on the now-retired detective would certainly become suspicious. Gwen had gone through enough, the last thing he wanted was for her to end up in jail because of him.

"I- I can't- I can't believe you're saying this to me," Gwen was bewildered. After everything they had been through together, he decides to abandon her now of all times? "Why are you doing this?"

"Don't call me again, Gwen," Lee reiterated. "Don't visit; you can't come here."

"Wha- wha- why are you doing this, Terry?" She was gasping for air. How could she find Connors without him? She didn't even know where to start. The man didn't have a Facebook page, a twitter account, a fucking Instagram, and it wasn't like she could look up the fucker in a phone book. "I need to find Connors."

"You need to stop." Lee knew that sometimes everything you worked for came to a catastrophic halt and you had to live with that fact.

"I'm not going to stop looking for Connors," she growled over the phone. "Fuck Connors, I'll go after Kingpin himself."

"Gwen, please," his voice was low and his tone was weak. "Save yourself and stop this. You're not a murderer. I beg you to not do anything you'll regret."

In her rage, Gwen hung up on Terry. The amount of loss was becoming unbearable which caused her to scream at her bedroom's ceiling.

A few moments later, she heard a soft knock at her door. "Gwen?" spoke May through the door. "Are you okay?"

"I am one-hundred-percent, not okay," Gwen mumbled back.

The door slowly squeaked open. "I know," May said as she poked around the edge of the frame. "I know."

"What am I supposed to do?" Gwen sat down at the corner of her bed, resting her chin in her hands.

"I think you should do what's right for you," May sat down beside her. "You can't do this forever; you have to take a break, Gwen. You're going to wear yourself out."

"I can't give up," Gwen released a labored sigh. "I can't just let them get away with murdering my father."

"Gwen, you're going to kill yourself trying," May placed a hand on the small of the girl's back. "You have to stop."

"What?" With a look of confusion, Gwen turned to May. "You can't think it's okay that- that thing gets away with killing my father; with killing the man that you love?"

"I find that it would be harder to lose both of you."

Gwen's frown deepened as her frustration reached its peak. "No," she replied sharply. "Fuck that, I'm not… I'm not giving up." her words faded with her breath.

Everyone reaches a breaking point, and Gwen Stacy was one step away from reaching hers. The first thought that occurred to her was to contact Harry Osborn. He had asked for her number at some point, but she couldn't remember how long ago it was. By now, the wounds that The Lizard had inflicted upon her were barely visible; no scars would be left behind. That was the power of Spider-Woman; no one had to see the amount of struggle and danger she tangled with on a semi-regular basis. This was all next to point of her original idea of contacting Harry Osborn.

He had asked for her number, and roughly one day ago the young man had sent her a message as promised. The message was unspecified, just asking to meet for coffee at someplace at some time. Gwen figured Harry wasn't a dense man. He had to have known that George Stacy was her father; it was easy enough to put two and two together. George Stacy was a police Captain, so he was considered an important individual by the public eye. This, Gwen did not care for and would have refused any press an interview if May hadn't already swatted those unrelenting swine away.

Through all of Gwen Stacy's reasoning, she realized that contacting Harry Osborn to ask him questions about Curt Connors would likely come off as odd, to say the least. Not only would it be remarkably odd, but it could also lead Harry down a path of suspicions he may not have previously considered about Gwen Stacy. Why would Gwen inquire about a random scientist employed at Oscorp? And if she brought up The Lizard, how does Gwen know there's a connection between Oscorp, Connors, and The Lizard? These weren't typical questions a normal person asks another person on a first date, or whatever it was that it was. Talking to Harry Osborn was out of the question, but maybe there was one last sliver of hope for Gwen. Or so she thought.

"He sold everything and that was that," these were the words that the real estate agent said to Gwen when she arrived at Stephen's now-vacated penthouse apartment. It was no secret where the man lived; Strange had no qualms about making his privilege known through social media. Although, his accounts had shown no signs of activity since the day of his accident.

"He sold everything?" the disheveled Gwen asked rhetorically. Gwen was no one's sight for sore eyes in her current disposition. She had resorted to wearing clothing that was stained and too large for her and showering only happened when May shoved the hapless girl into the bathroom. All of this was obvious to the agent who wondered what a wretched creature was doing searching for someone like Strange.

"He sold everything," the petite yet older woman reiterated her prior statement.

"Where'd he go?" Gwen rubbed at the greasy strand of hair plastered to her forehead.

"Why would I know?" the agent shrugged at Gwen in annoyance.

"Okay, then who knows where he is?" Gwen rolled her eyes at the tacky agent.

"No one knows where he is," she replied while she tugged at the bottom of her waaaay too-tight skirt, in Gwen's opinion. "And if I did, I wouldn't tell you."

"Oh, man," Gwen let out a sarcastic response. "Good thing you added that extra insult to be a big cunt."

"Wha-?" the agent was baffled by Gwen's brashness.

"Oh, piss off," Gwen waved at her. "Why the fuck did he sell all his shit and leave?"

"Are you even a friend of Stephen Strange?" the agent scoffed and followed it with a downturned mouth.

"Yeah," Gwen nodded. "Me and the Doc go way back. So, what happened?"

"I think if you were a friend of Stephen you would very well know what happened to him." The agent took an uneasy step forward and made a shooing motion.

"Alright, alright," Gwen flipped around and arched her back away from the woman. "I'm going. I'll just have to find Stephen Strange myself."

As fate would have it, she did find Stephen Strange.


End file.
